Blooming Romance
by iules
Summary: What happens when Kurt transfers to Dalton? Does Blaine like him? Does he even see him as a romantic interest?
1. Chapter 1  Friends

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them.**

**Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**This is my first time publishing here so here goes …**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Chapter One - Friends**

The class was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Literally. All twenty-five boys in the class were intently copying down the overhead and beginning on the work left behind by their teacher. The substitute teacher was at the front of the class, ready to turn off the overhead projector once everyone was finished writing it down. She looked somewhat bored, her eyes glazed over as she stared straight ahead.

Kurt underlined the subtitle in red then switched pens and continued writing.

He snorted to himself how such a tranquil, peaceful scene would never transpire back at McKinley, especially with a substitute teacher in the class. He remembered the deafening noise level, the paper airplanes, the buttered floors with . . . almost a longing. He had felt his learning restricted in those circumstances and upset with his classmates, but, now, he almost preferred it to the crypt-like silence of the classroom. He felt intrusive even turning the page of his notebook.

But he loved the feeling of being challenged here. Maintaining a 4.0 GPA at McKinley had been incredibly easy; here, he really needed to stay on top of things. He was happy to find out, though, that he was still much more advanced in languages, both French, but especially Spanish. Apparently Mr. Shue knew what he had been doing in his Advanced Spanish class, after all. But he quickly fond that, while he had been extraordinary and excellent at McKinley, here . . . excellence seemed more the norm. He would have to work even harder to be in the top percentile.

As the class concluded, Kurt packed up his things and placed them in his backpack. He got out the school map so he could find his way to Warbler practice. He had only been at Dalton for a little over a week and he still found it somewhat confusing. He felt it was like Hogwarts; not only was it incredibly beautiful, but it also must have moving staircases because he swore that routes he had taken earlier were no longer there. It did not help that all hallways seemed to be identical, vases and paintings lining them all in equal lavishness.

He hated being tardy to the Warblers practice, he felt judged entering late. Ever since the committee had thwarted his ideas for Sectionals and his solo try-outs had gone awry, he felt shy among the boys, even though, for the most part, they were very friendly towards him. He felt that he had something to prove to them, redeem himself somehow.

However, Blaine would be at practice, and that was reason enough to go.

* * *

Blaine absently stared out the window. Wes and David were across from him, Wes prattling on about the date he had planned this upcoming weekend for him and his girlfriend. Blaine was only half listening, murmuring "uh-huh" and "oh yeah?" at interval, enough to appease his friend.

Truth was, he was waiting for Kurt to arrive. He had talked to him less this past week than he had when Kurt was further away from him, at McKinley. They had gotten in the habit of texting regularly while Kurt had been there, besides Blaine driving out to see him and help him with the Karofsky issue.

Their texts were pretty short. They had run pretty much the same way all week:

_Hey, you! How was your day today? -B_

_Pretty good. It's kind of overwhelming and I have so much homework! - K_

_Who did you have today? - B_

Kurt would then proceed to list his teachers and subjects. They would banter a bit back and forth until Kurt said he had to go and finish up his homework. Maintaining his GPA was very important to him, though it did not seem to Blaine that there was any home pressure for high marks.

Beside Monday, Kurt's first day when he had shown him around, Blaine had only seen and spoken to him briefly. They had been too busy practicing for Sectionals during the Warblers to even chitchat there. True, he had gotten Kurt a solo audition and he had been blown away, but the committee had felt that Kurt seemed to grand. Blaine had roared internally at the indignation of that statement, but outwardly just smiled and accepted their decision. Dalton, while accepting everyone for who they were, was all about working as one seamless unit.

The committee's decision seemed to have worked out, as they had tied for first with McKinley at the Sectionals competition the night before. Blaine had not met any of Kurt's friends, but he saw Kurt over with them, congratulating them, and he looked so . . . happy. He had yet to see that expression of sheer glee while he was inside the walls of Dalton.

One of the double wooden doors opened and inside stepped a boy with skin pale like alabaster, big, innocent and honest blue eyes, and brown hair coiffed in a vintage style. The navy blue blazer, trimmed in red, fitted him to perfection and his tie was tied in a Prince Albert knot, as opposed to the usual four-in-hand style that most of the boys opted for.

_Of course,_ Blaine smiled, _Kurt had to find a way to be unique._

Kurt smiled tentatively in his direction as his eyes quickly took in the room, seeing if there was someplace for him to sit. Blaine was on the sofa; he had sat there purposefully and placed his bag on the empty spot beside him. Lifting his bag, he motioned Kurt over. A relieved expression flooded Kurt's features and he joined Blaine on the couch.

"Hey," Kurt smiled, "Are the Warblers reveling in their victory from last night?"

"I think mostly everyone is happy with the opportunity to move on to Regionals. We didn't make it this far last year. But, more importantly, how are you?" Blaine inquired, looking at Kurt seriously.

Kurt felt the air knocked out of him from the intensity of the other boy's green eyes. They were so _genuine_ that he was unsure how to respond. He did not want to burden Blaine with any feelings of inadequacy that he had, Blaine who had been much nicer, offered much more support, and had been so much more helpful than he had ever needed to be. He had gone above and beyond for him from his first text of 'Courage' to his visit to Karofsky at McKinley, to all the support he had offered him here at Dalton. If Kurt had believed in God, he would have equated Blaine with his own guardian angel.

Blaine watched the emotions trickle across Kurt's face. He did not know if everyone could read him so easily, but he found that all of Kurt's thoughts and feeling found a way of reflecting in his features, even if he tried to mask them. Now he saw Kurt wrestling with telling him the truth or sugar-coating it, probably thinking that is what he would want to hear.

Kurt opted to give an answer that told the truth but also masked how aloof he felt in Dalton. "Everyone has been really nice to me! My teachers all seem very bright, but also like they expect a lot from their students, which is a change from most of the teachers at McKinley," he answered.

Blaine raised one of his thick, arched eyebrows slightly, as if to say, "Yes? What else?" Kurt chose to ignore this facial gesture and instead, seeing the back of the newspaper beside Blaine, focused on that instead.

"Oh! Burlesque!" he pointed to the advertisement, "Cher is such a diva. Mercedes was supposed to see it with me but then my Dad got married and I had to transfer here . . ." he let his voice trail off as his mind wandered back to Karofsky, felt the other boy's lips roughly pressing on his. Unconsciously, his hand went up and his fingers gingerly felt his lips. "Anyways!" he chirped, snapping out of his reverie, "I never ended up seeing it."

"I heard it's good," Blaine said lightly, not sure where he wanted to take the conversation. He wasn't sure that Kurt regarded his as more than a friend and mentor and he had been so . . . reclusive this week that he was more and more certain that this was all Kurt saw him as.

Seeing his two other committee members enter the room, Wes got up and joined them at the rectangular table at the front of the room. He banged the gavel, officially opening the Warbler practice.

_So different from New Directions,_ mused Kurt before turning his attention to what was being discussed.

* * *

Kurt sat on his bed in his room, doing his homework. His dorm room was a far cry from his shared basement bedroom at his father's home. He wished that he could commute, but, unfortunately, the almost two hour drive between Lima and Westerville was not doable. He missed his room, he missed Finn, and, mostly, he missed his Father. He called them daily, but it was not the same thing. He missed being there, being able to hug his father and laugh at Finn playing Black Hawk. To hear Finn boisterously talking in the background, Carol laughing . . . it was almost as if the lack of his presence did not matter.

He had brought a lot of his stuff from home to his room at Dalton. Movies, DVDs, his laptop, the throw for his bed, photos, and, of course, his winter wardrobe. Not that he had much of a chance to wear it. By the end of the school day, he found he was too tired and busy to give much though to which Marc Jacobs sweater he should don or what bow-tie he was wearing.

Sitting on his bed, Kurt quickly typed away. He was working on his Spanish assignment, with Celine Dion blaring on his iTunes. The bed on the other half of the room was unoccupied; he had been lucky enough to get a room all to himself. Now, though, that empty bed was just a hallow reminder that he was alone.

Hearing a knock, he turned down his music and looked up. His door was slightly ajar and a dark head of curly hair was peeking in. It took him a second to realize it was Blaine; his hair was washed and unstyled, his curls left loose, and he was wearing a dark blue hoodie.

Kurt realized that this was the first time he had seen Blaine out of uniform. Having the sharp blazer striped off of him made Blaine seem somewhat more . . . human. Less perfect and dvine.

"Hey," he smiled at the older boy, "Please, come in! What are you doing in my neck of the woods?"

Blaine walked in and started looking around. He had only been in Kurt's room the day he had moved in and nothing was set up. He put his hands in his dark denim jeans as he strolled around the room.

"I live across the hall and two doors down, hardly out of you 'neighbourhood'," chuckled Blaine, "I came to see how you were doing; I figured this would get me more feedback than a text message." Even though his mouth was in a lopsided smile, it did not reach his eyes.

Kurt felt a pang of guilt. Was he being a burden to Blaine? He had been so supportive of him and now he seemed to think that Kurt needed more support than he was being given. He had tried so hard to be strong and make it through the sea of Dalton on his own, stay afloat and keep swimming through it.

"I'm doing great! Just working on a Spanish assignment now and then I will have to get started on my math and then try to read the first three scenes of Act I in Hamlet. I have to fit a facial somewhere in there too . . ." Kurt spoke quickly and trailed off.

Blaine looked at Kurt and laughed. He put down the picture he was holding - it was of Kurt with Finn and their parents at their parents' wedding - and walked over to Kurt's bed, sitting down beside him. He put his hand gently on Kurt's knee, which was drawn up to support his laptop. Kurt's heart almost leapt out of his chest; he felt electricity surging through his body from where Blaine's hand nonchalantly lay.

"Kurt . . ." Blaine said slowly, "You are an incredibly strong person, a thing you don't realize about yourself. You know you can talk to me, right? I know how overwhelming it can all be at first. No one knows better, trust me. I know you are confused and lost and overwhelmed and thinking that coming here was probably the worst decision you ever made. But give it time . . . you'll see that Wes and David are great guys, as are most of the Warblers and you'll fit in in no time. They'll see what I see and how could they not like you?"

Blaine's words, his warm attitude towards him, coupled with the fact that he had not been able to reach anyone at the Hummel-Hudson household and Mercedes had not texted him back yet, proved too much for Kurt. He meant to jut out his chin and say a manly "thanks." Instead, he provided Blaine with a watery smile as tears spilled from his eyes.

"It's just so not how I expected it," he said, crying, "Where are the Disney creatures and school-wide musical numbers in the hallways?"

Blaine's heart hurt for Kurt. Throwing reason to the wind, he followed his instinct and embraced Kurt in a giant bear hug. Kurt went rigid at first, then, inhaling Blaine's intoxicating fragrance and feeling him so near and so warm, his walls came crashing down. He let the sobs that had been pent in out and hugged Blaine back.

When Kurt had calmed down, he wiped his cheeks and refused to make eye contact with Blaine, embarrassed by his display.

"Wow," he breathed, "I cannot believe I did that. I am so sorry. I am going to go and die now. Please bury me in my Versace."

"Kurt," Blaine said seriously, "You don't ever need to feel embarrassed in front of me. Ever. And you can come talk to me whenever you have a problem, no matter how small. Don't bottle it up! Promise me."

"Okay, I promise. Thank you so much for everything, Blaine."

"Of course, what are friends for?"

_Friends,_ thought Kurt, _What else?_


	2. Chapter 2  It's Cold Outside

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them.**

**Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback from Chapter 1 …**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Chapter Two - It's Cold Outside**

Blaine had been right: life at Dalton definitely got easier with time. Kurt found that he was indeed getting in a routine that helped him deal with the insane schedule that was his life now. He woke up early to allow him time to get his facial done and style his hair, then usually had lunch with Blaine and his friends (Blaine was also right there, Wes and David had gotten much friendlier), proceeding to Warbler practice three of the five days and then homework. Since Blaine was a year older, he unfortunately did not have courses with him, so Kurt made do with the hour long lunch instead.

However, this routine did not make him miss Lima any less. He had not been able to go home the first weekend; Carol and his father were taking their honeymoon weekend then, leaving Finn to hang out with Rachel. He had wanted to go and see Mercedes but she was working with Brittany and Artie for a new competition created by Mr. Shue.

This brought more pangs of homesickness. When in New Directions, Kurt reflected, he had always been challenged. He had to fight Rachel tooth and nail for solos and Mr. Shuester always tried to give them new ways to express themselves and push the boundaries . . . even though he _was_ stuck in to '80s. The Warblers seemed to be much more homogenous than New Directions had been and this left Kurt feeling somewhat stifled. He could not see himself doing Le Jazz Hot, for instance, as an assignment for the Warblers, and a duets assignment at that!True, he was not getting slushied anymore, but neither did he feel that he was shining as brightly in the dampening uniform.

"You're just bitter you aren't having a diva off every week," Kurt muttered to himself, tying his tie, and felt a little better.

He was about to reach for his scarf to wear when he remembered his Spanish teacher had scolded him, in a nice as way as possible, that it was not a part of the uniform. People paid to come to Dalton and the uniform and, therefore, conformity was part of that deal. Kurt sighed and stared longingly at his silk scarf. When else would he now wear it?

After stuffing his books into his backpack, Kurt left his room, ready to face another day at Dalton.

* * *

Blaine leaned against a wall by the main entrance of his residence building. His iPhone was positioned in front of him so others would think that he was texting someone or on the internet. He was actually using the reflective screen on the phone as a mirror, watching out for Kurt to come down the hallway so he could 'bump' into him and head towards class with him.

Kurt had seemed to be doing much better, but he noticed every night, after he went to his room to call his father or his friend Mercedes, he always came back to the common room slightly down. He knew that speaking to his friends and family made Kurt compare his two worlds, and he probably could not help but compare the positive from McKinley to what he was unhappy with at Dalton.

Blaine's goal was now to make sure that Kurt was doing well and was happy, that he was not feeling miserable and regretting coming to Dalton Academy. He would not act upon his attraction to him; that would only mess Kurt up more. He was already struggling to come to terms with the move to a new school and meeting new people, he did not need to paw off the advances of the first gay friend he had. He would be his mentor and friend, nothing more. Not that Kurt wanted him to be anything more, it seemed. And why would he?

_Just because I am was the first gay teen Kurt has been friends with does not mean that I am going to be Kurt's type, _Blaine rationalized to himself, _Things do not happen so easily. Not for me._

Blaine checked the screen for what felt the millionth time and this time was rewarded with a lithe figure with stellar hair making his way towards him. Kurt seemed wrapped up in something and oblivious to all around him. Putting the phone slowly in his pocket, Blaine picked up his bag and slowly headed for the door. If he had timed it right, Kurt should be right behind him.

True to form, Kurt, who was walking with his head down and listening to his iPod, bumped right into Blaine.

"Oh my gosh," he breathed, looking up, "I am so sorry! I was just so into this Streisand song that I didn't even notice you!" Kurt's cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink as he yanked his ear buds out.

Blaine bumped him playfully. "There!" he exclaimed, "Now we're even. What were you listening to, anyways?"

"Putting It Together, from the Broadway Album. I love that rendition specifically," Kurt shyly replied, unsure if Blaine would know what he was talking about or thinking he was silly. He continued awkwardly, "I've been listening to it a lot; I want to try it one day at Warbler practice."

Blaine's mouth actually dropped. Every practice, a few people got to sing a solo, for practice and to bring new ideas and energy to the group. No one had ever attempted Streisand, let along 'Putting It Together.' He had confidence in Kurt and knew that he would blow that song out of the water.

Kurt misinterpreted the look. "You don't think I should do it? I should stick to something less . . . flashy? I know you said that I don't have to try so hard, but I'm really not, Blaine. Really! This . . . this is just me." He shrugged, saying 'take me or leave me.'

"No, no, Kurt, you don't understand. I think it's phenomenal. If you could pull it off, and maybe keep the hand gestures to a minimum," he cheekily said, referring to Kurt's movements during his solo audition of 'Don't Cry for Me Argentina', "then . . . you will not have a problem for solos, lets say. You can be my second solo . . . maybe even take lead from me."

Blaine winked and Kurt felts his knees go weak; somehow he managed to not skip a step and kept walking.

He mustered up the courage to say, "We should do a duet. At least for fun if not for the Warblers." He looked at Blaine from under his long lashes.

A slow smile spread over Blaine's face. "That's a brilliant idea! Lets stay behind after practice today and we'll do one, deal?"

"A most positive yes!"

With that, Blaine headed towards his Calculus with uncharacteristic cheer and good will.

* * *

Kurt sat by the window texting Mercedes as Blaine talked to Wes after Warblers practice. Apparently, Mr. Shue was getting New Directions to sing Christmas carols since Christmas was looming just around the corner. Shue apparently wanted New Directions to perform for the McKinney-Vento Homeless Children and Youth Program in order to fully immerse themselves in the Christmas spirit.

The Warblers were definitely not singing for any organization this holiday season. Kurt had suggested doing one or two carols today in Warbler practice, but the committee had declined, saying that they had to focus on more 'serious' and 'challenging' songs.

_Kurt, you would die if you had to wear our outfits. Red tacky Christmas sweaters with snowflakes on them and polyester green scarves! You're lucky you have to wear that hot blazer! - M_

read Kurt the text and giggled. He imagined himself in a polyester scarf and shuddered. Not that he was getting much use out of his own silk scarves and pashminas. He started texting back when he heard a 'thud.' Looking up, he saw that Blaine had placed an iPod in a dock down. The room was now empty except for the two of them. A thrilled tingle ran down Kurt's spine as he realized this.

"What's this?" he motioned to the iPod.

"Well, I was thinking that since you wanted to do a Christmas carol and get to duet with me," insert killer smile here, "I could bring the two together for you. If you want to still, that is."

"Of course! Anything to keep me away from Charlemagne," Kurt laughed softly, referring to the impeding homework he had to tackle.

"Very good then. I got a gig singing 'Baby It's cold outside' in the 'King Islands Christmas Spectacular'. Would you mind singing that?"

"Ah, personal favourite." gushed Kurt, "Too bad they'd never let us sing it together." Seeing Blaine's slightly cocked eyebrow and piercing eyes settle on him from that comment, he felt his cheeks flush, "I mean as two . . . artists," he quickly concluded, trying to cover up.

Blaine pressed play on the iPod and motioned to Kurt that he may begin.

_I really can't stay._

_But baby, it's cold outside._

_I've got to go away_

_But baby, it's cold outside_

_This evening has been_

_Been hoping that you'd drop in_

_So very nice_

_I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice . . ._

To Kurt, the room seemed packed with tension. He did not know how he made it through the number. Blaine was so delightful and, whenever their bodies touched, a current raced through Kurt. Was Blaine being flirtatious or was it just hopeful thinking on his part?

Blaine, meanwhile, had to fight every fibre of his being not to kiss Kurt. His eyes kept drifting towards Kurt's lush lips, as they moved to form the words of the song, as they smiled playfully at him. Probably unbeknownst to himself, Kurt was being a total tease. He was leaning in towards him, looking at him under his lashes, being incredibly playful. Blaine's heart soared higher than ever before due to a new-found hope.

When they fell into the couch at the end of the song, their bodies leaned into each other with ease and naturalness. Blaine had to look away in order to become master of his own feelings again and not do something rash.

A little awkwardly, Kurt said, "I think you're ready!"

Blaine looked to his left, taking Kurt in from such close proximity. He wondered yet again how this doe-eyed boy had managed to captivate him so quickly and without even trying.

"Well, for the record," Blaine sighed, getting up, "You are much better than that girl is going to be!" He gathered his iPod and deck and left the room as an older guy with short, tightly curled dark blonde hair walked in hugging his jacket.

"Mr. Shuester!" Blaine heard Kurt exclaim happily as he left the room.

He turned and saw the two embracing fondly, none of the awkwardness Kurt sometimes displayed around him emerging now. He quickly realized that this was Kurt's glee club teacher, but that did not stop a pang of jealousy from entering his heart.

"Good to see you, Kurt! Someone special?" he heard Mr. Shue ask.

Blaine reddened as he realized this most likely meant him. He briskly started walking away, not wanting to hear the answer, in case it shattered his heart.

"No, just a friend," was all he heard of the answer as he sped-walked down the hall, trying hard to keep up the collected and cool Blaine exterior he had perfected so well since coming to Dalton.

The truth was that there was no King's Island Christmas show; the theme park had had its last Christmas show in 1992 and had not been open during the winter since then either. He had just wanted a reason to sing with Blaine and, if the song proved to be sappy and full of innuendos, then so be it. He really was performing at a cafe, but it was probably nowhere near as fabulous as his King's Island show implication had been.

Blaine's good mood had evaporated.

Reaching his room, he slammed the door shut and threw himself on his bed. Being a prefect in his dorm, Blaine had the privilege of having a single room, attached with its own private bathroom. He was glad of this fact, especially now, when he could sulk in privacy. He knew he was being silly, getting so upset. He hated the he was so smitten by this boy and he had expected that Kurt would not like him like that. Yet here he was, being an angst-ridden teenager and hating himself for it.

A soft knock on his door.

Blaine hopefully looked up, thinking, hoping, that it would be Kurt. "Yes?"

The door opened and Wes walked in. Sighing dejectedly, Blaine flopped back on his bed and hugged his pillow tightly. He heard the click as the door shut behind Wes then felt his friend sit at the foot of his bed. They sat in silence for a while, comfortable enough with each other to not need to speak. His friend's presence was enough momentarily for Blaine.

Wes was patient. He knew that prodding Blaine would end up with poor results; he would just clam up more. Blaine would talk and confide in him when he was ready. At long last, Blaine sat up and had such a dejected look on his face that Wes was caught off guard. He had never seen his best friend looking so . . . alone. When he had come to Dalton he had been scared and messed up and quiet, but, even then, this expression of solidarity had not shadowed his features.

"I really like him," Blaine whispered.

Wes did not have to ask who him was. He only nodded, indicating he knew. This may be the first time Blaine was admitting it to him, but he had seen the way that his friend interacted with Kurt, the way his eyes lingered on him longer than anyone else in a group and the way his lips always curled up in a smile when Kurt entered a room.

"I've never felt this way about . . . about anyone before.I thought I had loved Mike, but now I realize that I was young and impressionable and infatuated with an older boy paying attention to me. When he broke up with me, I was strangely okay with it," Blaine paused, "But to hear Kurt say that I am just a friend," he almost spat out the phrase, "It's more than I can stand."

"When did he tell you this?" Wes asked carefully. He could not picture polite and friendly Kurt viciously hurling those words at Blaine.

"He didn't," Blaine said simply, "I knew. I always just knew and deceived myself into thinking that we could be more. His old teacher came to see him just now and, as I was leaving, I heard Kurt telling him that."

Wes did not want to point out that eavesdropping on people's conversation often resulted in disastrous ends. Either one ended up hearing something that crushed them, or they misheard, or did not hear all, of a conversation. It was quite a gamble to take to gain more information. However, lecturing would do nothing; it would have the adverse effect intended on Blaine.

"I cannot believe that," Wes said, and he truly could not wrap his mind around the fact that Kurt had no romantic feelings for Blaine. The way that kid looked at Blaine, such adoration in his eyes. "And he would have to be blind to not see how amazing you are."

Blaine smiled feebly. "Thanks, Wes, but apparently I am not his type of amazing."

A heavy silence fell. Wes was no good at this, his girlfriend would be much better in this situation. He decided that since he could not fix anything, he might as well try to distract him. So he started recanting stories about what had happened at dinner and, soon, Blaine was laughing along, if only half-heartedly.


	3. Chapter 3  Misery and Harry Potter

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them.**

**Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback from Chapter 1 & 2 …**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Chapter Three - Misery and Harry Potter**

Kurt came back from his shopping trip feeling happier than he had in a while. True, he now had to plow through his homework at double the speed, but seeing Mr. Shuester had been a much needed does of Lima. He had also missed being in a mall and, even though he had not gone shopping for himself, it was a nice bit of retail therapy.

Feeling empowered by this excursion, he was going to go to Blaine's room and see if he wanted to do their homework together. He realized this was a poor pretense to spend time with him, since they shared no classes, but he was sure that he would not be refused. To his surprise, there was no light shining under Blaine's door, meaning he had gone to bed since he normally always left a lamp on, even if he was not there.

This was odd, since it was just past nine, but Kurt did not give it much thought and went back to his room. Turning on his laptop, he opened the internet and, before he knew what he was doing, was typing in 'King Islands Christmas Spectacular' in the Google search bar. He realized he wanted to buy a ticket, maybe watch Blaine, take a video of him, surprise him after his set.

But nothing came up.

Nothing pertaining to anything current, anyways.

The park was closed during the winter and there was no Christmas concert, especially not with Blaine singing 'Baby It's Cold Outside'. Kurt was confused. What had Blaine been playing at? Why had he lied?

Kurt's stomach felt quesy as he came to the sudden realization that Blaine lied . . . he was human, after all. He had flaws, he was not a God amongst men. This was both disappointing and rather comforting at the same time. It made him seem rather more attainable, made Kurt feel like maybe he did stand a chance.

His phone rang, breaking his reverie. He was glad to see a picture of his dad's and Carol's face as the word 'Home' flashed on his screen.

"Hello?" he picked up.

"Kurt!" his dad's voice bellowed through the phone, "How are you, bud? We miss you at home, it's just not the same without you." A wave of love washed over Kurt. It was all he needed to hear right now.

"I'm good, Dad. There is so much work here that I feel like there are Homework Elves that are constantly replenishing the homework, just like they do at Hogwarts with the food!" he laughed. His father joined in too, but he could tell that Burt Hummel had little to no clue what he was talking about. "How are the Christmas decorations coming along? I hope you got my e-mail and layout plans for where everything goes?"

"Well, about that," Burt began and Kurt feared the worst. Had they scrapped his plans? Put his decorations away? Only used Carol's? "We all decided to wait for you to come home until we start decorating. Finn actually suggested it when I said we should probably go out and pick a tree before all the good ones were gone; he knows how much you love the holiday. It's our first Christmas as a family so . . . you know, we want to do it right."

Kurt wished he could hug his father then, and Carol, and especially Finn. A single tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped it away.

"Thanks, Dad. That means so much to me," he said softly.

He talked to Burt for a while longer and Kurt finally felt a sense of belonging and being missed from home when they hung up. He looked over to his new family picture from the wedding and he realized how much they all meant to him, even Carol and Finn. It was bizarre how quickly his mind had adjusted from it being just him and Burt, to having a family of four.

It was with renewed zeal that he tackled his homework. Charlemagne did not seem quite so bad anymore. It was wonderful what a change of perspective could do.

* * *

Snow drifted slowly to the ground. Blaine stood in the middle of the gardens of Dalton, no longer blooming and covered with a soft sheet of powder white snow, and just stared at the sky. His iPod was on and he was listening to 'Misery' by Maroon 5.

_So let me be and I'll set you free_

_I am in misery_

_There ain't nobody who can comfort me_

_Why won't you answer me?_

_The silence is slowly killing me_

He had come to a conclusion whilst standing there, surrounded by nature, snow, and the winter wind. He needed to step away from Kurt, for his own good. Knowing for certain now that Kurt did not see him in a romantic light, he needed to spend less time for him. Hopefully that would help his strong feelings fade away somewhat.

He would, of course, still be there if Kurt needed him. Hell, he would drive to see him in the middle of the night across the country if he was asked to.

He nodded firmly to himself.

That was it then. Kurt Hummel was out of his life, for both their goods.

"Blaine?" asked a voice behind him.

Blaine turned, taking out his ear buds, and saw Kurt, staring at him oddly. He had a red beret on and a matching red scarf under a black pea jacket. His cheeks were pink from the cold and Blaine could not remember Kurt looking so dashing.

_Not dashing! He looks . . . fine. You're trying to stop liking him!_ Blaine angrily thought to himself. But he could not help it, Kurt stirred something deep within him.

Seeing Blaine had not responded, Kurt continued, "What are you doing? I was calling you from across the garden and you didn't answer. Is this some sort of performance art?"

Fidgeting uncomfortably with his ear buds, Blaine replied, "N-no. I am just here thinking. There's less noise than in the dorm. I just needed to clear my head."

"Oh! Well, in that case, lay it on me! I bet you'll be surprised to learn from my previous tear-fests that I can actually be quite helpful!"

Blaine felt his heart rise in his throat. There was nothing he would like more than to take Kurt into his deepest confidences, share his secrets and passions with him, but how could Kurt help when he was part of the problem?

His mind raced quickly about what else he could say he was thinking about.

"I'm just contemplating my gig," he said, playing with his foot in the snow.

Kurt narrowed his eyes. He had avoided bringing up Blaine's 'gig', but it seemed that now was the time time grab the bull by the horns. "The one at King Islands?"

"Hmmm?" Blaine had momentarily forgot that is where he told Kurt it was at, "Oh! Yes, yes that one."

"Blaine, I know." Kurt said flatly.

Blaine blanched. "What do you mean?" he tried to play dumb.

"King Islands is closed in the winter. I looked it up because I wanted to buy tickets to see you perform. Why did you lie to me?" Kurt's eyes looked so hurt at this betrayal that Blaine had to look away.

"I . . . I didn't expect you to want to come," confessed Blaine, and turned to look at Kurt, "But I really _do_ have a gig. I'm actually performing at a cafe in my hometown . . . and the girl I'm duetting with is my sister." He smiled shyly, "Seems a lot less glamourous this way, right?"

Kurt shrugged. "I think it sounds great. I think it sounds like the truth."

Blaine continued to draw with his foot in the snow while Kurt observed him. Blaine seemed more reserved, slightly less confident than before. Kurt wondered what had happened to changed him. Maybe it really was just the upcoming gig.

"Listen," Kurt said, "I'm done class for the day and, for all intents and purposes, it seems that you are as well. Now, I have a DVD collection that would put Blockbusters to shame. Why don't we pick a movie to watch and feel better? It seems like we could both use a pick-me up!" Blaine looked at him uncertainly and Kurt felt the other boy trying to find a reason to refuse. "I won't take no for an answer! Besides, I have loads chocolate in my room."

"Well then, lets go choose a movie," Blaine said and motioned for Kurt to lead the way.

* * *

Kurt had not been kidding; his DVD collection was impressive to say the least. There were classic movies, musicals, some more independent movies, some foreign movies, as well as a whole Disney section. They were all categorized alphabetically by genre.

"Can we watch this?" Blaine asked, pulling out the first Harry Potter movie, 'The Philosopher's Stone'. He was glad to see that Kurt had all six of the DVDs on his shelf. He was a huge fan of the series and had been secretly contemplating trying to turn the books into a musical.

"A great choice," Kurt smiled as he was turned on his TV.

He had converted the unused bed in his room into a couch, tossing a throw over it and accessorizing with pillows, then turned it lengthwise. He had placed the TV and DVD player on the wall opposite to it. It was working out well, not having a roommate.

Blaine tossed him the DVD and then threw himself on the makeshift couch and looked around Kurt's room. Every time he came in, he could not get over just how _Kurt_ it was. He had decorated it the best he could without painting and put holes in the wall, both forbidden by Dalton. The gauzy curtains he had hung watched his throws and pillows. The clothes that poked out of Kurt's closet, which he kept open, as if his clothes somehow kept him company, were all so colourful and unique. Blaine wished he had more opportunities to see Kurt donning them.

"There, we're all set!" Kurt smiled and headed to the couch.

As he walked over, it dawned on him how awkward it might get. Blaine might think that he was trying to put the moves on him or something. They had watched movies together before, with the whole floor, or just with Wes or David, but this was different. But still, Kurt tried to appease himself, it's not like they were watching a romantic comedy or something, but, still, they would be watching it alone, in his room, on what was essentially a bed. Kurt chose to sit far enough away from Blaine that they would not touch but close enough that he did not seem to be trying to avoid him.

They watched the first bit in silence, small comments made here and there about why they loved that part, or why the book was better in that scene, when Kurt remembered he had promised Blaine chocolate. He leaped out and walked to his desk, grabbing a big bag from a drawer. When he came back to the couch, in his excitement, he sat down right beside Blaine, their knees grazing.

"Here we are! Feel free to have whatever and however much you want!" Kurt held out the bag towards Blaine.

Blaine looked through the bag. There was every single type of chocolate imaginable. "Why do you have so much?"

Kurt reddened a bit and answered, "Well, I have it from when I was at McKinley. It helps when you're down. I have to fight the dementors somehow."

"That's a lot of dementors," Blaine muttered then spotted a candy at the bottom of the bag. He yanked it out, "I'll have Red Vines! I haven't had this in so long!"

Kurt laughed, grabbed a Mars bar, placed the bag on the floor, and leaned back against his pillows. His arm grazed Blaine's as he ate his chocolate and, both boys sitting cross-legged, had their knees touching. Neither moved away from the other.

It took all Kurt had in him to not snuggle up to Blaine. His warmth radiated from him and was inviting. His smell enveloped Kurt to the point he felt intoxicated. The movie did not matter, he was more preoccupied about the rhythm of Blaine's breaths, the movement of his jaw as he chewed, the way his lashes almost touched his cheeks when he blinked.

Blaine had never been more aware of Kurt's presence than he was now. Every time he shifted, Blaine felt it, every time he fixed his hair and licked his lips, Blaine did all he could to not turn and stare at him in awe. Especially his lips. They were the poutiest, most desirable lips he had ever seen. To just graze them once . . . but Blaine had to stop that train of thought quickly before it got him in trouble.

Kurt leaned forward to toss his wrapper into the garbage. Blaine took this opportunity to readjust himself. He leaned back more, hoisting himself out on his arms. As Kurt leaned back, Blaine realized he misjudged his arm placement; he felt Kurt's body lean back on it. Without thinking, he turned his hand from leaning on the throw to cupping Kurt's waist. It fit against his hand exactly as he had imagined. Perfectly.

Feeling the strong hand against his waist, Kurt was unsure how to react. He loved it there, loved the warmth and assurance with which it held him. But how was he supposed to react? What was the purpose of the hand? He was confused by the whole situation. He found that Blaine was more than willing to guide him. He felt a slight tug on his waist. He looked up into Blaine's eyes.

"Get comfortable," Blaine said hoarsely.

"O-okay." Kurt mumbled, dizzy with emotion.

He did not think and did what came most naturally to him, nuzzled up into Blaine, but was firm in propping his head up himself, not laying it on Blaine's shoulder. He felt that would be just . . . too much.

As the movie continue, the warmth of Blaine's body combined with his late nights staying up, doing his homework, Kurt felt his eyes getting heavy. He fought against the spell of sleep but, ultimately, sleep overpowered him, as it does us all. His head fell onto Blaine's broad shoulder and he unconsciously nuzzled even more into him.

Blaine looked down at the sleeping boy and smiled. He could not have asked for a better way to spend his afternoon. He stroked Kurt's hair and was pleased to see a small smile form on Kurt's beautiful lips. It was the first time he had touched Kurt's hair; it was luscious and smooth and everything it had promised to be. Squeezing Kurt closer to him, he leaned back contently and watched the rest of the movie, not really seeing it.

_So much for Kurt Hummel being out of my life,_ thought Blaine as he stared at the screen.


	4. Chapter 4  Missed Opportunities

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them.**

**Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**Sorry for the delay in updating; I had a busy weekend! ^^;;**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Chapter Four - Missed Opportunities**

Kurt felt so comfortable. If he did not know any better, he would have sworn that Blaine was holding him. That they had fallen asleep together. But that was ludicrous, that would never have happened to him. He was obviously in a semi-lucid state of mind, somewhere between dreams and reality, and had not awoken quite yet.

Then he opened his eyes.

He found that he was actually awake. It was not a dream.

The arm that held him securely around the waist did not disappear. The chest his head had rolled down on was still solid and bearing a white dress shirt and the navy and red Dalton tie.

He slowly looked up.

Blaine was fast asleep, his head resting on the wall behind him, mouth slightly ajar. His dark lashes were contrasting against his creamy skin. At this proximity, Kurt saw the faint shadow of Blaine's stubble, already growing in after his morning shave.

He tried to straighten up, but Blaine's arm tightened more on him when they felt Kurt trying to pull away. Kurt resigned himself to just staring at Blaine a while longer, trying to memorize his features in case he never got the chance.

An odd buzzing noise filled his ears.

Kurt looked around, unsure where the sound was coming from. It stopped, then started up again. He looked around his room frantically, trying to figure out what it was. Then he saw that his cell phone was lit and moving slowly across his desk. Sliding gently out from under Blaine's warm embrace, he went to pick up his phone and look at the caller ID.

_Finn Hudson._

Kurt frowned, puzzled. He was actually ashamed at how little Finn and he had talked since he had transfered to Dalton. They texted briefly, but sustaining a substantial conversation with Finn via text was about as easy as it was in person.

_I sometimes think it's easier for Lupin not to transform during a full moon than to have a serious discussion with Finn, _Kurt though as he pressed 'Accept Call', _I wonder the reason for the unexpected ring?_

"Hey Finn!" he answered.

"Hey my brother from another mother . . . and father, I guess," Finn confused himself, "What's going on? How are you doing? Excited to be coming home soon?"

Kurt laughed at his step-brother's eagerness then, remembering Blaine sleeping two feet away from him, quieted down. "To answer your questions: a lot of homework, I am doing well, and I am very excited to be home and decorate for Christmas! How are you doing, Finn?"

A long pause followed that question. Kurt checked his phone to see if they had been cut off; they had not. He was about to ask his question again, thinking that maybe Finn had not heard him, when Finn spoke up.

"Not too well, really, Kurt," his voice was hoarse, like he was trying not to cry.

Kurt was stunned. He had never known Finn to sound so vulnerable. He had not cried when he realized Quinn had cheated on him with Puck, had not teared up at the wedding, been strong for him during Burt's heart attack.

"What's going on?"

"I've just . . . I've just been having a real hard time," Finn started, obviously very uncomfortable discussing his emotions, but he obviously needed to talk things over with _someone_ if he had called Kurt. "I broke up with Rachel."

Kurt gasped and sat on his bed as a reaction. "What? When? Why?" he said, feeling slightly ridiculous at the speed he went through three of the five W's.

Kurt listened in silence as Finn recanted his tale: how it had actually been a few weeks ago, around Sectionals, that Rachel told him about her and Puck making out but he had made it definitive a few days ago.

"I just . . . I really miss her; I _love_ her, Kurt," Finn said softly, "But I am seriously fucked up right now. I just don't get why two out of my two girlfriends have cheated on me."

"Well," Kurt began slowly, unsure how he wanted to proceed, "I think right now having time to yourself is a good thing, even if you do love her, even if you do want to be with her. Say! Why don't you come with me to a Christmas concert? It's nothing big, one of my friends here has a gig in it. This way you can get out of the house, out of Lima. What do you say?"

"I think that would actually be a really good deal," Kurt could almost see the smile formed on Finn's face as he spoke, "Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad I called and . . . and that you're my brother."

"Me too, Finn, me too. So I'll text you place and time when I get them then?"

"Awesome."

"Alright, see you then. And give my love to my dad and Carol." With that, the call ended and Kurt placed his phone back on his desk.

"Who was that?" a husky voice mumbled.

Turning, Kurt saw Blaine waking up. He stretched like a cat and looked at him with eyes still hazy from sleep. He grinned playfully at him and patted the seat next to him, motioning Kurt over.

Kurt all but skipped over to him, happy to see that there was no "oh dear God, what happened, I regret everything" look on Blaine's face, no look of apprehension, only glee and serenity.

"That was Finn, remember I told you about him? My new brother?" Kurt answered, curling his foot under him as he sat, his shoulder grazing Blaine's. "He broke up with his girlfriend and he sounded really upset so I invited him to see your gig." A pause then, "Is that okay?"

"Wait, you're coming to see me perform?" Blaine incredulously asked.

Kurt was taken aback. Did Blaine not want him there? All the confidence he had had a second ago waned as he tentatively answered, "I was planning on it, but if you would rather that I not come, then -"

"No, no! Quite the opposite, I am _thrilled_ that you want to come and see me! And don't worry, I totally don't mind you bringing Finn. The more, the merrier!" Blaine beamed at him, "I'm also really glad to get the chance to meet your new brother." He tried to say this as casually as possible.

"Mmm, he's a great guy. Charming, though, at times, he can't pour water out of a boot with instructions written on the heel," Kurt chuckled, "I think you'll like him."

"Will he like me?" Blaine inquired, nervous suddenly to make a good impression.

"What's not too like?" Kurt answered brashly and then immediately coloured. How could he have been so forward?

_Dumb move, Kurt,_ he thought, _Now he's going to think that you are some crazy obsessed stalker or something._

Blaine just grinned, but did not press the issue further for fear of Kurt's head being swallowed by a burning jet of fire, he was so red. Blaine felt his chest tighten at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he had been mistaken about Kurt's lack of interest in him.

"I mean, _of course _he'll like you. Finn is really easy going," Kurt tried to back pedal, only going more red.

"Easy there, Pink," joked Blaine, "Anyways, thank you for a _lovely_ movie date, but I really do have to tackle the mountain of science homework. By the looks of it, your homework situation is no better than mine." He nodded towards the stack of books on Kurt's desk, "I'll see you later! Come over if you're bored."

With that, Blaine left Kurt's room, leaving Kurt to himself and his spinning, wild thoughts. Had Blaine just called what had happened a date? Did he mean a real date or two friends hanging out date? Then again, he had not called him out on his Freudian slip earlier, but maybe he did that to be nice and not embarrass him?

Kurt squared his shoulders and came to a resolution. It was not a big deal, but he figured it was better than the lack of anything he was doing now.

* * *

Kurt had worked on a fair bit of his homework on his own. It was hard to concentrate, there was so much racing through his mind. There were Christmas presents to account for, what he would wear to Blaine's gig, what Blaine thought of him, what Finn would think of Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine.

Frustrated, his slammed his history book shut.

_Kurt, he told you to that you had visitation privileges. Take advantage of it, go there! _he thought to himself, trying to make himself stick to his very simple plan. He had promised himself that as soon as he got too fidgety, he would take his homework over to Blaine's room to see if he wanted to work together on their studies. He thought he was being sneaky getting more time in with Blaine this way.

Grabbing his stuff and marching out of his room before he chickened out, he briskly walked out of his room and the few steps down the hall. Head held high, he let his wrist flick quickly as he rapped the door three times, despite the fact that it was slightly ajar.

Blaine opened it, looking confused as to why someone would knock. Kurt was delighted to see that Blaine had showered; his curly hair was proof enough that the product product in it had been washed away. He was wearing a white Dalton t-shirt and gray jogging pants that were slightly long for him, so only his toes peeked out slightly from under the hem.

Kurt thought he had never seen Blaine so casual or so adorable before.

"Hey, is anything wrong?" Blaine asked, looking slightly worried.

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I was doing my history and I thought that I should come and work on it here with you. This way, if I have any questions I can ask someone who was there first hand," a smile quivered on Kurt's lips.

"Aren't you doing the history of the Holy Roman Empire?" Blaine inquired, confused. Realization swept over his face as he understood what Kurt had meant, "Haha, Hummel. I'm only a year older than you, thank you!"

Kurt batted him away playfully as he made his way into Blaine's room. A thrill ran down his back as he heard the distinctive click of the door closing.

Blaine's room was distinctly different from Kurt's. First of all, it was designed to only host one student, even having it's own private bathroom. This latter fact was something Kurt envied him immensely; he hated the communal bathroom he had to share with the rest of the floor. Blaine had a lot of sports memorabilia randomly scattered over his room and, in typical guy fashion, seemed to surround himself with a plethora of blue objects. His bed spread was blue plaid, his sheets were a royal blue, even his guitar's case, propped in the corner of his room, was blue.

It was messy, something that took Kurt by surprise. The perfectly polished Blaine that was presented to the outside world did not suggest clothes on the floor, an unmade bed, and random music sheets scattered everywhere. Perfectly Polished Blaine also did not seem like that type that would have Britney Spears or Katy Perry mixed into his music collection, yet there they were. A giant Harry Potter poster from Order of the Phoenix hung beside his desk, Kurt noted, and was glad that Blaine really was a true Harry Potter fan.

"I was just going stir crazy in my room," Kurt explained, almost apologetically, "I thought I might be more productive . . . here?" He sat down on the floor near the pile of notebooks and science texts.

Blaine flopped down in the midst of the chaos. "I will do my best not to distract you with my totally fabulous knowledge of and wisdom."

"It would be a welcome distraction. I've been doing this history paper for so long that I feel like I'm going to start wearing a toga soon. That's how close to the breaking point I am!"

"I can think of worse things than you in a toga," Blaine mischievously said.

Blushing madly, Kurt looked down and tried to start reading his textbook, failing miserably. All he could feel was Blaine's steady gaze and smell Blaine all around him.

_Just keep calm and carry on,_ Kurt thought to himself as he felt Blaine's penetrating look fall away.

Blaine turned his attention back to his books and vowed to be a good boy and not tease Kurt or try to distract him from his work. He could not help stealing glances every once in a while to his right to look at the younger boy. He loved the pensive expression that Kurt bore whilst focusing on his studies; it was completely endearing.

_Face it, Blaine, you are simply smitten. This boy has worked his magic on you and hopefully you can magic him back, _Blaine mused as he smiled secretly to himself.

Suddenly, an object struck him in the head. Kurt had been playing with his pen while reading, spinning it around his fingers. It had fallen several times during the course of the evening, clattering to the ground. Now, however, in an overzealous spin, the pen had flown out of Kurt's fingers and flung at Blaine's head.

"Ow! What the -?" sputtered Blaine.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I swear I wasn't trying to maim you!" gasped Kurt, covering his mouth in surprise. His big eyes had widened and had gotten larger than Blaine thought was physically possible.

Clutching his forehead, Blaine grabbed the pen and waved it at Kurt. "I am confiscating this from you, you apparently cannot handle such advanced tools."

"Okay, now that is not fair. I am really sorry for hitting you, but I need it to write. Unless you would like me to start scripting in blood?"

"Don't be gross," Blaine wrinkled his nose, "You'll just have to prove yourself worthy of the pen and earn it back. There will be trials."

"Oh yeah?" Kurt cocked his perfectly arched eyebrow, "I think I'll just take it back and save myself these tests you are talking about. Apparently I did not damage; you seem to have sprung back rather well."

Blaine placed his hand holding the pen behind him, away from Kurt.

"You will need to pry it from my dead, cold fingers," he said, managing to maintain a very straight and serious face, "My room, my rules, Mr. Hummel."

"I used to be on the football team at McKinley. I can take you, Mr Swim Team," Kurt challenged and leaned forward.

He stretched for the pen, which was kept out of his reach by Blaine. Though Kurt had to admit, he was not really trying very hard to get his pen back. He was enjoying being close to Blaine, having his arm graze Blaine's torso, looking into Blaine's eyes at such a close distance.

They kept up the game of Keep Away, Blaine moving back just enough to have the pen out of Kurt's reach. Reaching for it again, Kurt lost his balance and slipped forward, his chest colliding with Blaine's, their faces inches apart. Neither of them dared to breathe. Their faces were inches apart, noses almost touching, lips apart, deep, raspy breaths escaping though them. Blue eyes met green and neither looked away.

_Just go for it. Kiss him, _thought Blaine.

Breathing in, heart pounding, Blaine leaned in. Kurt's frame leaned against him, warming his already flushed body. He inhaled and Kurt's sweet fragrance surrounded him. If that was any indication, Kurt's voluptuous lips must taste delicious.

So close.

"Time for writing up our lab!" chirped a loud voice as Blaine's door was thrown open.

David walked in and stopped dead, a deer in headlights. He wasn't sure what he had walked in, but he did not really want to find out. He was not sure if he had time to turn around and leave or if he should proceed into the room as if it was nothing out of the ordinary to find Blaine with a boy strewn upon him.

Kurt quickly grabbed him pen, laying idly on the floor now, and scrambled away, back to his own work, while Blaine glared darkly at his friend, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

_Fuck my life,_ Blaine thought in frustration.


	5. Chapter 5  Coffee House Gigs

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**Sorry for the delay in updating - this chapter took a while before it began flowing (I think it has kind of a slow start)! But here is the chapter now and I hope that Chapter Six will be out in a couple of days. I am not sure exactly how long I'll keep this story going ... maybe awhile since I'll have no new Glee on TV! ^^**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**EDIT: Changed Blaine's last name from Anderson to Anderson upon learning that it has been confirmed as his last name! :)**

**Chapter Five - Coffee House Gigs**

Kurt lay in bed and thought about the incident from a couple of days ago. How close he had been to Blaine, how Blaine had seemed to welcome his proximity. Had he been about to kiss him before David had come bursting in?

Whenever he closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep, all he saw was Blaine's face from that day. His piercing eyes, looking right into his, piercing his soul, his thick eye lashes, his wonderfully arched lips. Kurt sighed and pushed next on his iPod; not even Judy Garland was helping him now.

He was also very excited for the evening; not only was he going to see Finn in what seem like forever, he was also going to see Blaine performing. He had taken out several shirts and trouser the night before to try to pick an outfit, but to no avail, he had been able to decide on nothing.

Exasperated, he got out of bed. He had lay down for a nap, but it had proved useless. He had only tossed and turned from one side of the bed to another, burying his head as deeply as he could in his large down pillows.

He swung his legs over his bed and picked up his cellphone. Maybe Finn would want to make a day trip and hang out with him earlier than they had originally planned. The dorms had started clearing out for Christmas break, so there was no one even left at Dalton for Kurt to hang out with and divert his mind, allow him to calm his nerves. Blaine had left the evening before, after quickly packing his clothes for home. Kurt's bag lay open at the foot of his bed, already packed neatly, waiting only for him to choose his outfit so that the other clothes could be folded and placed with the rest.

_Hey Finn! If you're not doing anything now, want to meet up earlier? - K_

The response came quickly. Kurt figured that his brother was probably playing video games, his cellphone probably sitting right beside him . . . or under him was more likely.

_ya, i can meet u earlier! how about in 1 hr? :) - F_

Kurt wrote back that it was fine and turned back to his outfits. He finally chose the loudest of them. As much as he loved the Dalton uniforms (and men in uniforms, but that was another topic), he really missed going around and looking like Kurt as opposed to looking like he belonged to a flock. Therefore, the louder the better. With quick, precise movements, he packed up the other clothes and shut his suitcase.

Getting into his Cadillac Escalade, he thought again how amazing his father was. He had fixed his broken windshield and had regifted him with the car in order to facilitate Kurt's movement in and out of Dalton. Slipping in his '90s Pop MP3 CD he had made, he turned the key in the ignition and headed down to meet Finn.

* * *

Finn was not sure what to expect from the cafe. Would it be rich and ritzy like Dalton? Make him feel like he had to tuck his elbows in all the time and duck his head for fear of hitting something and breaking it. Or would it be more like Lima's coffee shop, connected to a gas station and with food that was so greasy, Finn was sure they cooked it in car oil.

Pulling up to the address Kurt had given him, Finn was relieved to see Kurt's car parked in the lot. He would have hated waiting awkwardly inside. As luck would have it, Kurt was just getting out and walking towards the cafe as Finn was.

"Kurt!" Finn called and his brother turned. A giant smile spread over his face as the two embraced warmly.

It had been sort of lonely at home since Kurt had left. He had really gotten used to having Kurt around all the time and, as awesome as it was to not share a room, the stillness sometimes unnerved him. He had been conditioned to perma-Kurt atmosphere.

"Well, let's go in. I'll buy you lunch," Kurt said and, seeing Finn was about to protest, added, "It's the least I can do for having you drive all the way out here!"

Finn shrugged awkwardly. "Whatever. It was just an hour," he mumbled.

He was glad to find that he liked the atmosphere of the cafe. It felt really warm and inviting; Kurt would no doubt say that the colour palette and plush chairs snugly hugging round tables lent to the air of intimacy and comfort. Kurt led them to a table near the small stage; slightly off-centre but still up front.

"So! Tell me everything!" Kurt gushed as he placed his coat and scarf on the chair and sat down to rifle through the menu.

And so Finn did. He unloaded all his pent up feelings about his breakup with Rachel, sex with Santana, his anger towards Puck. He had not been able to share this with anyone before. It was too awkward talking about it with his mom or Burt, cool as they were, and Puck and Rachel, the two people he talked to, were at the very root of the problem. It was refreshing to be able to talk with Kurt like this. He was a great listener, empathy radiating from his eyes. His advice was tangible and true.

Following their conversation, Finn felt better than he had in a while. He bit into his sandwich with renewed vigour while Kurt sipped his his latte and made small talk about Dalton.

"Kurt," Finn said with his mouth full, "Who are we here to see anyways?"

Was Kurt . . . blushing or were Finn's eyes deceiving him?

"Oh, a friend of mine. His name is Blaine," Kurt answered evasively.

"Ah. Of course. And do you go to the hometown gigs of all your Dalton friends?"

Kurt made an annoyed sound and waved Finn away, refusing to answer. He hurriedly changed the subject to Glee club, trying to divert Finn's attention. Finn obliged him and dropped the subject, but he had made a mental note. Yes, Finn had decided, Kurt was definitely blushing.

* * *

Kurt was having an unexpectedly good time out with Finn.

_I guess there was a reason I liked him for such a long time,_ he thought drily to himself.

Kurt did not know when Blaine would show up, if he would be sitting out front before the set, if he would even notice him in the crowd. That was partially why he did not take a table that was central; he did not want to seem like some sort of super eager puppy. Therefore, Kurt's eyes were constantly darting towards the entrance when someone new entered, always hoping to see the familiar and handsome face.

He suddenly heard a throaty laugh he would know anywhere. Blaine walked into the cafe from a back door and threw his stuff in a booth off to the side. A tall, thin girl followed him. She had long black hair that was just as tightly curled as Blaine's; Kurt assumed this was the sister Blaine had mentioned.

Kurt started when Blaine took off his winter jacket. One would never guess Blaine was gay by observing him at Dalton; everything was extremely subdued. Now, though, in his native and obviously comfortable zone, Blaine seemed _more loose_ somehow. By no means was he the screaming fashionista Kurt was, but the tight red jeans, light cardigan with darker accents with a mistletoe broach, all fastened over a dress shirt, was a far cry from his sharp, pulled together or jeans and hoodie fashion worn at Dalton.

Kurt slouched low in his chair, abandoning his usual erect position. He did not want Blaine to see that he had come to the cafe early incase it labelled him as a stalker . . . or something.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Finn asked confused. Following Kurt's gaze, he turned and saw the boy and girl in the corner. "Oh! The _friend_," he stressed this word, "is that boy?"

"Y-yes, that is Blaine," Kurt replied rather awkwardly, "I just don't want him to see me."

"Why?" Finn was perplexed, "Wait - does he know that you are coming to see him today? Or is this like . . . some sneaking around ninja operation?"

"I obviously would not be sitting so near the stage if he wasn't informed that I was coming," snapped Kurt, irritated, "I would have chosen something more inconspicuous, like a booth in the back."

"Right," muttered Finn, "Obviously."

At that moment, two boys walked over to Blaine. He hugged them both tightly. His hug mirrored Finn's hugs, embrace and two pats on the back, more than Kurt's, a tight embrace that lingered. One of the boys grabbed the girl by the waist and greeted her with a juicy kiss on the lips. Blaine swatted him playfully, laughing. The couple then left and went up to the counter, whether to talk to the waitress there or order, Kurt could not tell.

"Do you think that they're together?" Kurt blurted out to Finn before he could stop himself. He could feel his cheeks burning as Finn turned to observe Blaine and his friend.

Blaine was talking very closely with the other boy. Finn thought that the other boy looked like a more slender, more blonde version of Zach Efron. Blaine's hand was casually resting on the boy's back as their heads bowed in close. They were smiling and laughing. If he did not know that Blaine was gay, he would have thought nothing of two guys huddling close and talking. But now that Kurt had suggested that the two were an item . . . Finn was not so sure anymore.

"I dunno, man," he admitted to Kurt, "My first instinct was to say no, if that helps you out? They just seem really close."

Kurt felt like he was intruding. Blaine obviously had friends here that had come to support him; there was no need for him to be here. Maybe he could leave now, before he was seen, and fain a headache or that Burt wanted him at home right away. Something, anything, to make him stop feeling like this had been a mistake.

He was about to suggest leaving to Finn when he saw Blaine finally look away from his handsome friend and scan across the cafe. As his eye landed on Kurt, a huge smile spread over his face and he waved enthusiastically. Kurt half-heartedly waved back as Blaine walked over to him, motioning his friend to follow.

"Kurt! I am so glad that you made it! Did you find the place alright?" Blaine asked, leaning in for a hug. Unprepared for this show of affection, Kurt's hug lacked the all encompassing bear embrace. He was happy to not that Blaine gave him a squeeze instead of the two-pat.

"Yes, we did! Blaine, this is my brother, Finn," he motioned over to Finn.

Finn took Blaine's outstretched hand and heartily shook it. "Great to meet you! Kurt's had only great things to say about you."

_If only this chair could swallow me whole, _Kurt thought to himself as he felt another flash of heat rise to his cheeks.

Smiling, Blaine pointed to the blonde guy. "This is my best friend, Joey. He's been with me since kindergarten."

"Unfortunately!" laughed Joey and then shook Kurt's hand, "A pleasure to finally have a face to put to the name." Blaine swatted Joey playfully as he 'tsk'ed. "Anyways, I'm going to go and find your sister and Dylan."

Blaine grabbed a chair and sat with them. "I'm just going to chill with you guys until we have to go on, is that cool?"

"Oh totally, man," Finn answered.

Blaine started off my talking football with Finn. Even though he did not play, Blaine enjoyed watching it. He listened attentively as Finn talked about McKinley's team.

"Who else is coming to see this? Anyone else from Dalton?" Kurt tentatively asked once the football conversation tapered out.

"Hmm? Oh . . . I don't know. Probably no one from Dalton; I don't think that they know I do gigs. As to who will come . . . whoever sees the advertisement and wants to, I guess? I'm going to guess that maybe a few people from my old high school will come to heckle me, but they've stopped doing that as of late. My mom and dad said that they may pop in, but I doubt it," Blaine answered off-handedly.

Finn stared at him. "You're okay with your high school bullies coming in here? If Karofsky ever came to something like this of Kurt's . . . he better be well behaved is all I can say," he heatedly stated. Kurt's heart swelled.

Blaine smiled and glanced at Kurt. "I don't know if I could promise such good behaviour if I saw Karofsky. However, in my situation, I know that they can't be too bad. There are bouncers here and, plus, this is my place. They would be the odd man out. Sometimes they come and just watch me, saying nothing. I just tune them out; it's different now that I am no longer at school here."

"Dalton was good for you, then?" Finn asked.

"Oh, yes. It saved me. To find a place where I could be me and not be ridiculed and bullied and shoved for it restored me," answered Blaine.

"But Dalton also strips you of you." Kurt spoke up.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Do expand."

"Well," Kurt started slowly, "Personally, I know that I feel less . . . _diva-fied _there. If that makes sense? Sure, my outfits got stares and comments at McKinley, but I wore them and I felt great in them. At Dalton, I got reprimanded for wearing a scarf. How does a scarf hurt their uniform, Blaine? It was even colour-coordinated!"

Blaine smiled at this comment but made no answer.

"I really think we are all different when we are within the walls of Dalton, whether we realize a change has taken place or not," Kurt finished and stared poignantly at Blaine.

Blaine knitted his eyebrows slightly. Him? Did Kurt mean him? How was he different at all? He thought he acted consistently in all surroundings. He was saved from answering when he saw the manager waving him over.

"Sorry guys, I have to go now, I'm on in five!" he exclaimed and, with an apologetic grin, left the table.

"I really like him," Finn said, "He's solid."

"Thank you for the stamp of approval," Kurt retorted, a shy smile playing in his lips.

As the curtains were pulled on the small stage, they revealed a piano, a stool, a guitar leaning in a stand, and a microphone. The manager that had motioned Blaine over walked to the mic.

"Welcome everybody to our Very Christmas coffee house!" he said and a few chuckles ruminated across the cafe, "Tonight we have Blaine and Lauren Anderson performing for us! Lets offer them a warm round of applause!"

As he left the stage, Blaine and his sister, Lauren entered. Blaine sat at the piano and Lauren pulled the stool up to the microphone, adjusting its height. They started off with 'Baby It's Cold Outside' and followed it up with 'Joy to the World'. Lauren then picked up a water bottle and sat on her stool, off to the side.

"Hey everyone. This is my sister, Lauren Anderson, and I am Blaine Anderson. We just wanted to thank everyone for coming out to see us and support us. So, I create music and I wish I had created this song, but I did not, and I'm going to play it for you now," Blaine spoke and began playing the introduction to 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas'.

Kurt watched him, transfixed. Blaine's hands seemed to glide over the keys with minimal effort. His voice caressed Kurt and enveloped him. It felt like there was no one else in the establishment and Blaine was singing solely for him. A sharp kick to his shins brought him back to reality.

He turned and saw Finn grinning at him. He mouthed what looked like '_you're drooling_'. He made a face at his brother than turned to continue watching Blaine. After one more song, a break was announced and Blaine walked over to their table, an uncertain look on his face.

"So? What did you guys think?" he asked.

"You were simply wonderful!" Kurt exclaimed, his hands clenched together, held under his chin, and his eyes large.

Finn nodded his agreement as he took out his cellphone, which was vibrating.

Turning to Kurt, Blaine said, "I have a few minutes before the next set. You want to step outside with me for a minute? I need some air."

"There is air in here!" laughed Kurt as he grabbed his jacket.

"But there is no snow!" countered Blaine, zipping up his jacket, as they stepped outside. Large, wet snowflakes were drifting lazily all around them.

Kurt walked over to the side of the building, where there was open space and snow covered firs. He slowly twirled, hands outstretched, and thought about what a perfect moment this was. He stopped spinning when he bumped into Blaine. He was startled to find him inches away; he had not noticed him follow him into the clearing.

"Thank you for coming tonight, Kurt," Blaine whispered.

"Anytime," was Kurt's breathless reply as he fought against the urge to brush off all the snowflakes that had landed on Blaine's cheeks and hair.

"Merry Christmas, Kurt."

"Merry Christmas, Blaine."

To his great surprise, and delight, Blaine breached the short distance between their mouths and kissed him. It was soft and warm and passionate, grazing his lips and causing fire to shoot through him. It was everything Kurt had ever dreamed and wished his first kiss had been.


	6. Chapter 6  Home for the Holidays

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**Sorry for the delay in updating! The holidays are creeping up on us - so I also want to wish each of you Happy Holidays!**

**There will be more Blaine/Kurt interaction in the next chapter - promise! **

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Chapter Six - Home for the Holidays**

The previous night was a bit of a blur for Kurt. After Blaine had kissed him - kissed him - they had gone back inside so Blaine could continue his set. Like it had all been perfectly normal. Like it had not come from nowhere; one moment he was spinning childishly in the snow and then next, Blaine, the perfect Blaine, was kissing him. Smiling sheepishly, Blaine had mentioned how his break was over and that they needed to go back inside.

Kurt had watched Blaine perform in a daze. Those lips singing the songs, forming those perfect notes, grinning, saying quirky quips to the audience, those had been the lips that had kissed him. He could not get over that fact. He only wished that it had, in fact, been his first kiss, that Korofsky had not stolen that from him.

After his whole set was done, Blaine had come to thank Finn and Kurt for coming to see him. Finn seemed to really like Blaine and thus had told him to come down with Kurt whenever he could. Blaine had hugged Kurt goodbye, a tight hug that lingered longer than it normally would among friends.

Kurt drove back to Lima in a daze, not really hearing the music, just following Finn's car blindly. By the time he had pulled into their driveway, he had managed to collect himself so he would not appear to be a walking corpse. His father would surely be concerned then and start asking all sorts of questions he was not ready to field. Questions he did not even know the answer to.

"I'm really glad you asked me to come out and meet your friend tonight, Kurt," Finn said honestly as he came around back to help carry one of Kurt's bags.

Kurt held back a glare as he realized that the comment was genuinely sincere and Finn was not ribbing him about anything. Instead, he let a smile melt over his lips.

"Well, Finn, I am very glad you decided to come," he replied.

Neither of the boys was sure whether they would find their parents awake considering the late hour. Just in case, they unlocked the door slowly and tiptoed inside, careful to not make any noise. Bags went in the corner, shoes slipped off, jacket's were thrown on the coat rack. They saw a soft blue light emanating from the family room but heard no sounds, so they softly walked towards it.

Carol and Burt were both asleep on the couch, Carol's head on Burt's shoulder as his arm encircled her; the thick blanket had rolled off of the on the floor. They must have been watching a DVD that finished as the TV screen was glaring blue. Finn look for the remote while Kurt picked up the blanket and covered the couple.

Carol stirred and slowly opened her eyes. She looked slightly confused but, as he eyes adjusted to the dim light, a smile crept over her face. "Kurt! You're home!" she pushed her hair back as she got up, "Come here, you. Bet you were trying to get out of a hug!"

"Not at all, Carol," Kurt protested as she engulfed him in a tight embrace. Hugging her back, Kurt felt tears prick his eyes. What a lovely reception. It was good to be home.

"Kurt? Is that you?" his father's sleep-laden voice asked.

Kurt immediately pulled away from Carol and sat down beside his father, embracing him. "Dad! I didn't want to wake you. I hope you're feeling alright."

"I'm fine, Kurt. Fine. That heart attack was months ago!" Burt playfully said, hugging his son tightly. He had missed him tremendously, his heart had ached for his boy. Now he felt a sense of calm enfold him; his life was again complete now that his boy was back. "We were waiting up for you and we must have fallen asleep," Burt stretched, letting go of his son.

"I'll bring you stuff up to your room," Finn offered.

"Oh, no! You really don't have to, I can do it," Kurt protested.

Finn waved him off. "Please, I don't know how you managed to get them to your car. It's really no problem," he assured Kurt as he left.

Carol sat down on the other side of Kurt, beaming. "I know you must be tired, sweetie, but talk to us just a bit. It's been quiet without you here. How was your friend's concert tonight?"

Kurt leaned back, basking in the love, and felt eternally grateful to have been blessed with such a great family.

"Tonight was wonderful," he said honestly, "My friend played a great set. I met his sister and his best friend and, best of all, Finn seemed to really like him! I really could not have asked for a better night!"

Carol and Burt's eyes met over Kurt's head. They had noticed the way he gushed when he spoke and, even in the dim light from the hallway, they could tell that his cheeks had gone more pink than usual. Carol shook her head slightly, communicating to her husband to keep his mouth shut. Burt gladly obliged. He was not sure if he was ready to have that talk with Kurt yet.

"That sounds wonderful," Carol said, "Will we get to meet him or any of your new friends over the break? I assume some must live in our proximity."

Kurt started. He had not really considered the option of seeing anybody from Dalton over the break. Finn meeting Blaine had been the most he had been able to envision crossing over.

"I am really not sure, Carol? We did not really discuss anything before parting ways to go home for the holidays," Kurt replied.

"Well, just know that your friends are more than welcome here. Anyways, your father and I should go to bed now. I assume you'll want to decorate tomorrow?" she asked, standing up and offering her hands to Burt to help him up.

Kurt held onto his father's arm as he stood. "Of course! I am so excited! Goodnight you two," he waved airily at them as the walked out then proceeded to the basement.

Finn was already in his pajamas, curled up in his bed, reading. Kurt did a double take. Finn was _willingly_ reading? Looking closer, he saw that it was a comic book and the universe made sense again.

"Burt thinks he's found a house," Finn announced as Kurt pulled out a t-shirt and flannel pants from his suitcase, "He wanted you to see it as well before we bought it. I really like it, though."

"Oh?" Kurt asked, unbuttoning his shirt and heading for the washroom. Leaving the door open, he continued, "Where is it?"

"It's actually only a couple of blocks away. We would each have our own room and then Burt said he would turn the basement into a sort of rec and gaming area. The house even has a pool."

"That sounds lovely! I'm sure I'll be fine with it; can't be worse than this house," he motioned around as he threw his dirt clothes in his hamper then slid into his bed. "The beds at Dalton are great," he mused, "but they really cannot compete with mine." He buried his head in his pillow and prepared for slumber.

Finn threw his comic to the ground and turned off his light. Kurt heard him inhale deeply then slowly let it out. He shifted around a little and coughed.

"For heaven's sake, Finn! Just say whatever it is you want to say and stop squirming!" Kurt snapped. This was followed by an awkward silence; Kurt thought Finn had decided to not say anything and so settled back into his pillow.

"Are you happy there?" Finn finally asked, sounding embarrassed.

Kurt tried to open his eyes. He was so warm and comfortable in his own bed that he had already started drifting off to sleep, but Finn's question had caught him off guard.

"Mainly, yes," he answered sleepily.

"I'm glad because . . . that's all I ever want you to be, Kurt," confessed Finn then Kurt heard him roll over in his bed, "Good night."

"Night," mumbled Kurt, staring at the spot in the blackness where Finn was.

* * *

Kurt got up the next morning in an uncharacteristically good mood. He was generally not a morning person and need to be left alone until he had had his shower and his giant cup of coffee. Today, however, he woke up with a smile on his face, ready to greet the world.

Getting into the shower, Kurt began belting out at tune. Finn had not been in the room when he had woken up, so he figured he would not be bothering anyone by singing too loudly.

_With each step I am more certain everything will turn out fine_

_I have confidence the world can all be mine_

_They'll have to agree I have confidence in me_

_I have confidence in sunshine, I have confidence in rain_

_I have confidence that spring will come again_

_Besides which you see I have confidence in me_

_Strength doesn't lie in numbers_

_Strength doesn't lie in wealth_

_Strength lies in nights of peaceful slumbers_

_When you wake up - Wake Up!_

Turning off the shower, he dried off his hair. Throwing on his underwear, he did not bother with his bathrobe. He exited the bathroom finishing off the song,

_I have confidence in confidence alone_

_Besides which you see I have confidence in me!_

A startled Finn greeted him as he stepped into the bedroom. Finn had apparently forgot his cellphone downstairs and had come down to grab it. His shell-shocked face told him he did not expect to see an almost naked Kurt bellowing tunes with a towel wrapped around his head.

Kurt held his head high and walked to his side of the room, ignoring Finn's reaction.

"Good morning," he loftily said, "I hope you're ready to start Christmas decorations."

"Uh . . . yeah," muttered Finn, thawing out of his shock.

"I've already made a list dividing up the work. Everyone has a task that is aimed at their specific skills," continued Kurt, tugging his skinny jeans on.

"Great."

"Well? Is he up or what?" a voice rang and footsteps were heard on the stairs. Mercedes appeared and did a double-take upon seeing Kurt topless. "Is this a new look you picked up from Dalton?"

Blushing furiously, Kurt was no longer able to ignore the awkwardness of the situation. He turned and stared rummaging through his suitcase, looking for a shirt and sweater he wanted to wear.

"Just a second," he snapped, "It's not my fault you both came barging in here like rabid elephants."

He huffed indignantly as he buttoned up his yellow shirt then rolled up the sleeves until they were just under his elbows. Picking up the gray wool and cashmere-blend ribbed Marc Jacobs cardigan, he threw it over his shoulders and turned to his friends, who had stood by mutely, watching him, not wanting to cause another snarly retort.

"Mercedes, hello. I'm sorry, you startled me and I did not mean to call either of you rabid elephants," he apologized, "I did not know you were coming over today." He faced Mercedes.

"Yeah, I wanted to come and surprise you. I want to get all the juicy scoop before the others!" she grinned, "So I figured I would beat them to the punch."

Ah, the others. So New Directions talked about him. Apparently missed him . . . like he missed them. Then why had they not replied to his text that he was coming home? Why was Mercedes the only one here?

He smiled thinly. "Well, as long as you're here, you can help us decorate. I promise you will get all the scoop!" he quickly added as he saw her open her mouth to protest. He then merrily made his way upstairs, refusing to let the fact that the other New Directions members had not contacted him bring him down.

"You'll be one up on me if you can get a straight answer from him," warned Finn in a low voice and he and Mercedes followed Kurt upstairs.

Kurt was already in the kitchen, pouring himself a coffee from the already-brewed pot. Sipping from it, he rationed out work. He told Finn where to get the decorations from and sent him on his way, then he had Mercedes move furniture out of the way to make room for the tree Finn and his Dad had gotten the day before. Finn and Mercedes then brought the tree in as Kurt began meticulously unpacking the boxes.

Every ornament, every figurine had its place. The kitchen had an opening that faced the dining room; the ledge of that opening was rather wide and usually just had the mail thrown on it. During Christmas, the nativity scene always went on it, if only because that is where Kurt remembered his mother always placing it.

As the decorations went underway, Finn placed a CD into the player in the family room. Christmas music blared from it, the three often singing along. Christmas magic was weaving its way through the Hummel-Hudson house. Four stocking went up over the fireplace this year. They did not match perfectly and go with Kurt's palette, but he found he did not care.

Finn brought some ornaments out and placed them on the couch. "Do you think you can find room for them somewhere, Kurt?" he softly asked.

They were mostly handmade, works of labour and love from young Finn to his parents. They were absolutely hideous, but, like the stockings, Kurt thought they worked wonderfully with the existing decorations.

He handed the star to Finn once all the garlands, baubles, and figurines had been placed. "This is it, Finn, the last piece. With this, Christmas is here," he stated, "Do the honours."

"You're only letting me have the honours because you're too short," Finn laughed and Kurt made a face at him.

Placing the star on the tree, the three backed away and looked around. The house had been transformed into a Christmas wonderland. The smell of pine, the festive lights, the divinely inviting feeling the whole place had was enough to turn the heart of any Grinch.

They all flopped into the couches, exhausted.

"So, Kurt, time for my reward!" chuckled Mercedes.

Just then, the song changed and 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' came on. Reveries flooded over Kurt. Singing that song with Blaine had been magical for him. It had made his body tingle in ways he had never known before. And Blaine's silly spins and gestures . . . he found himself smiling softly at the memory.

"Okay, spill! Who are you smiling about?" pressed Mercedes, noticing the smile creep over Kurt's face and his eyes glaze over. She knew that look; it was the look Tina got when talking about Mike, or Brittany when Artie was brought up. The latter was a poor example, Mercedes realized, since Brittany often had a glazed look.

"Oh, am I smiling? I didn't think I was," was Kurt's evasive answer.

Mercedes turned to Finn who gave her an "I-told-you-so" look.

"Listen here, Kurt Hummel," Mercedes said, sitting up, "You may be able to hoodwink your brother and you may be able to get out of answer to your father, but there is no way that you are going to answer your best friend like that. Now out with it before I have to tear up that fancy-ass sweater you're wearing!"

Kurt clutched his sweater and turned to Mercedes, eyes wide, "You wouldn't dare!"

Mercedes cocked and eyebrow. "Try me," she saucily said.

"It's just all so . . . uncertain," Kurt tried to hold out.

"Boy, all the more reason to talk about it! Who else are you going to go to for advice? Puckerman? Mr. Shue? Coach Sylvester?" Mercedes counted off all the unlikely candidates on her fingers.

"No, of course not. Don't be absurd," glaring at her, Kurt continued, "If you really must know, there is nothing to report about Blaine and I."

"Blaine is the guy we saw last night," interjected Finn.

"Oh yeah! That guy you had in your locker," Mercedes remembered, "Whatchu talking about, _nothing_? Why would you have a picture of someone where _nothing_ is going on in your locker? Or see their show?"

"He's my friend," Kurt said slowly, weighing out what he wanted to disclose. The kiss was too soon, too raw, too his to share just now, but he figured it would be alright to let them in on his slight - okay, huge - crush. "I wish he weren't just my friend."

"I knew it!" exclaimed Finn.

Kurt flashed a withering look towards his step-brother.

"And how do you know that he doesn't want to be more than friends?" pried Mercedes.

Kurt shrugged. The truth was, he did not know just what he knew for certain anymore. The kiss had meant so much to him but Blaine had acted so . . . normal afterwards. Kurt did not know what he had expected - serenades at the piano, a passionate goodbye kiss? - but it had not been the reaction he had received.

"He's more of my teacher . . . mentor," Kurt replied and thought, _What kind of teacher kisses his student?_

"And does he take many students?" Mercedes raised and eyebrow.

"Well . . . no, but . . . why would he like me?" Kurt looked at them, his eyes large, a vulnerability showing in his face. Silence fell across the room as his friend regarded him sadly.

"Kurt, dude," Finn broke the silence, "You're amazing. You know that, right?"

"Of course," huffed Kurt, "that goes without saying."

Mercedes laughed. "Kurt, I bet you that this boy is even more smitten with you than you are. I mean, he drove all the way from Dalton just so he could talk to Karofsky for you! And then again that one time we went to Breadsticks, remember? Insane drive to make for someone you are _mentoring_." She did air quotations when she said mentoring.

"You have to say that because you're my best friend," smiled Kurt, "Anyways, guys, let's go out and get some food. I'm starving and now I'm in the mood for Breadsticks."

Grabbing their jackets, the trio made their way out and into Kurt's car, making their way to the restaurant.

* * *

Blaine's guitar was packed up and he was sitting at the booth in the cafe, waiting for his sister. Lauren was saying goodbye to her Dylan and she had been kind enough to him to do it outside. Joey was sitting with him, sipping on a coffee.

"Great set today! You were totally awesome," Joey smiled crookedly.

"Yeah? I felt my cellphone go off during one of the songs; I hope no one picked up on that," Blaine mused.

"Oh, don't worry, you were the image of a stealthy ninja when you turned it off," Joey grinned, "Next time don't leave it on the piano, silly man. Who was calling you, anyways?"

"It was my father. He was saying how sorry he was that he couldn't make it, etcetera, etcetera." Blaine shrugged slightly, "I expected as much. I think it will only be Lauren and I at this rate for Christmas."

"I'm sure your dad and Lyn will be back in time for Christmas and, if not, then our doors are always open to you! My mom makes enough people to feed an army."

Blaine smiled and replied, "Thanks so much, Joey. Your mom should just adopt me already!"

"You have no idea, she would love it. She asks about you constantly. By the way," Joey looked away, "she keeps asking if you'd met anyone new."

Remaining poker faced, Blaine said, "I meet new people all the are the new kids from other glee clubs or from other sports teams. Dalton was good for me in the . . . meeting new people area."

"I think she means romantically," Joey retorted with a dead pan expression.

"Oh," Blaine breathed, raising his eyebrows.

"What about that porcelain boy who came to see you tonight? The one who brought the tall, lanky guy with him? You always talk about him . . . oh, what's his name?" he feigned forgetfulness.

"Kurt. You know it's Kurt." Blaine narrowed his eyes.

Joey rolled his eyes. "What about him?" he pressed.

Blaine played with his watch. "He's . . . like nothing I've ever encounter before. But I have to be careful; he came to Dalton ready to fall apart and I don't want to be part of the process that tears him down. I want to strengthen him."

"Ever the saviour."

"Boys! Let's go!" Lauren came in and waved them over impatiently, like she had been waiting around for them for ages.

"Don't think that you've gotten out of this talk, Blaine," Joey warned, putting his jacket on.

"Joy," Blaine rolled his eyes as he grabbed his guitar.


	7. Chapter 7  A Forgotten Warbler

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**I hope that everyone has had a great holiday season! This is the last update of this year - new chapter to come in the new year! ^^**

**The next chapter will feature a joyous reunion - promise!**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Chapter Seven - A Forgotten Warbler**

Lima had never seemed so wonderful. Snow covered the trees, Christmas lights twinkled in the night, wreaths welcomed you inside people's homes. And carols were sung.

Finn had invited everyone in New Directions over to their house in the hope of singing Christmas carols and celebrating the season together. This would also give everyone the chance to see Kurt and catch up with him. He had not told Kurt that the group was coming over, so when he came back from his trip for hairspray, a look of shock spread over his face as he walked in and saw everyone. He was swarmed with squeals from the girls as they rushed towards him, embracing him. The guys hung back more, but then hugged him as well. Kurt's presence had definitely been missed by everyone in the glee club.

"Not that I'm not grateful," began Kurt, "but what is she doing here?" he whispered, pointing to Lauren Zizes, who was standing behind Puck, watching him as he talked to Artie.

Finn shrugged. "She's part of the glee club, she's one of us now."

Kurt nodded, raising his eyebrows, as if to say: 'fair enough'.

Everyone made their way to the family room to sit and eat. The gathering had been arranged in a pot-luck style, everyone bringing something to contribute to the feast. Kurt was heading over to talk to Artie - he had heard from Finn that Artie had a device that allowed him to walk - when he saw a swoosh of black to his right as he felt an arm link with his and pull him in the opposite direction.

"I'm thirsty," the firm voice said, "Let's get the drinks for everyone."

"Rachel?" sputtered Kurt, "What the heck are you doing?"

"It's only a momentary kidnap, Kurt, don't worry," she assured him, smiling, "Now that I have you all to myself, I want to know _everything_."

"Everything?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Of course, I have to look out for you and make sure that you're doing alright. No one knows better than me how quickly we can fall . . . into a deep infatuation with something . . . or someone," she leaned in close as if to share a secret, "We are very similar, Kurt. Now that you are no longer my competition, I feel like we may fully confide in each other. No one will ever understand us as well as we do each other."

"True. Though it is weird to have you being so nice," smirked Kurt.

They leaned back on the kitchen counters, arms still linked. Rachel turned to him and smiled as she shook her head slightly, getting her bangs out of her eyes. She squeezed his arm affectionately.

"Mercedes let slip that you have a romantic interest at Dalton," she began and held her finger up as she saw Kurt's mouth open, "I just want to know that this is all on the up-an-up. I want to know that he is . . . respecting your decisions. I don't want anything else . . . taken from you, as your first kiss was stolen by that oaf. I want you to be able to choose. I know first hand what it's like to be . . . under pressure to give more than you are willing to."

"Finn pressured you?" Kurt sputtered, completely baffled and suddenly enraged.

"No, no!" Rachel quickly assured, "Finn is a perfect gentleman," she said this with a sad smile and Kurt's heart hurt, "When I was with Jesse there was a time when I felt that it was _expected_ of me to be more physical that I was comfortable with. We quickly talked about it, though, and he respected my wishes. I just want to make sure that no one is forcing you into anything."

With anyone else, a conversation about how far he had gone with another boy, about the possibility of _sex_ with another boy, especially with Blaine, who was the issue at hand, would have been incredibly hard to bare for Kurt. It was an awkward topic even with Mercedes; Kurt credited this more to the fact that he always felt guilty about bringing up relationship stuff with her since she had once liked him. True, she was his best friend, and he could talk to her about anything . . . except Blaine, it seemed. He felt bad that she did not appear as excited over anyone like he was about Blaine.

However, talking with Rachel about this topic - boys - seemed almost natural. He was not completely at ease, since this sort of confidence was new to him, but he was comfortable with her.

"Rachel, don't worry, no one is pressuring me to do anything. This," he circled his face with his finger in the air, "is getting zero action." He paused. The kiss. It was on the tip of his tongue. Turning to look at Rachel, seeing her smiling, warm expression, it flowed out of him. "Well, maybe not zero. He kissed me when I went to see him perform at a coffee place in his town."

"_Eeeeeee!_" squealed Rachel and she hugged Kurt tightly.

"Shhhh," he hushed, "I don't want the other knowing yet."

Rachel covered her mouth as she released Kurt, her smiled showing behind her hand. A look of genuine happiness was sketched on her features.

"Kurt, that's fantastic! How was it?"

Kurt blushed; he had never discussed anything like this before, and so openly too. "It was . . . great. I didn't want the moment to ever stop. There was snow falling around us . . . I felt like I was Audrey Hepburn!"

Rachel hugged him again. "I hope it all works out, you really deserve a break after . . . well, after everything. Have you talked to him since you saw him last?"

"Well, no," admitted Kurt.

Rachel swatted her hand. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll call; the holidays are a busy time for everyone. I mean, look at what you have to deal with here! Speaking of, lets get those drinks for everyone before they begin to wonder where we've disappeared to!"

Grabbing a case of pop each, they made their way back into the family room where the rest of the glee club was gathered, eating and talking loudly over each other.

Kurt looked around and realized how much he had missed them. He had really gotten very close to this gang of misfits and he loved them each for the friendship, uniqueness, and raw talent each bore. Every single one of them enhanced his life somehow. Except Lauren Zizes. He was still thrown off about her.

She came over to him now, taking the case from him and placing it down, taking a can out. He was about to walk away from her and attempt to talk to Artie again, she he felt her heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned and faced her; she still frightened him somewhat.

"Kurt," she began, "this club is really lame."

"Then why are you here?" he exclaimed.

She shrugged. "I like everyone. And singing . . . can be cool, I guess. I just wanted to tell you that I'm really glad that you're doing good in your new school. I felt really bad for you at McKinley."

She opened her pop, took a sip, and walked away, leaving Kurt stunned. She cared and had noticed his strive? He had thought he had been going through it all on his own. That no one bothered to care or see what he had been going through. Sure, sometime Mr. Shue would make a comment, but he had never really did anything about it. And the guidance counsellors were all but useless.

Something in his pocket vibrated. He took out his cell phone.

_1 new message_

His heart thumped against his rib cage. Maybe it was from Blaine. He hoped it was from Blaine. He was almost fearful to open it. Who else could it be from? Almost everyone he ever talked to was in the room with him now.

_You forgot Pavarotti at school. Don't worry, he's safe. Next time, be more careful. - W_

Wes. The text was from Wes. And how had he forgotten that damn bird behind? He had been so careful with the bird ever since he had received it from the Warblers. A warbler from the Warblers to the new Warbler. Say that three times fast.

He mentally kicked himself. _Say goodbye to ever having a solo now, Kurt,_ he angrily thought to himself. Like Wes was going to even left him try out for them now, seeing as he had almost killed the team's mascot.

_OMG - I am so sorry. I was so distracted when I left that I didn't even notice! Swear it won't happen again! - K_

Shoving the phone in his pocket, Kurt threw himself down in the couch, a sudden bad mood washing over him.

* * *

The house was deathly silent. The servants were all in the kitchen or in their quarters, Lauren was over at Dylan's house, and Blaine's father and his new trophy girlfriend were off somewhere - Blaine did not really care to find out where specifically.

Blaine ultimately always enjoyed the silence that the huge house brought, giving him peace and tranquility from the usual bustle of Dalton, but right now it just made him sad. It reminded him of his lack of any close friends in the area. He had a great group of friends at Dalton, but, the one of the problems with Dalton, is that it was a boarding school for the rich. This meant that most of his friends were scattered around the country right now. Chatting online or via text messages just was not the same as having someone over. The silence also reminded him how money did not buy love. His father was often absent. It seemed he cared enough about Blaine to not want him picked on, bullied, or threatened, but he figured that just shipping him off to Dalton was the answer. They had never discussed what had happened at his past school, they had never talked about Blaine coming out of the closet. Nothing really mattered except being groomed to follow in his father's footsteps - which apparently required Blaine to be intact and alive.

He lazily rolled out of bed. He had been up for about an hour now, but he loved reading in bed. He had kept saying that he would get up when he was finished the next chapter, and that chapter came and went. Blaine's stomach growled loudly and he finally had to give in and get up, if only just to feed himself to ensure he would not die.

Blaine casually walked into the kitchen, his hair curly and wild, his white T-shirt awkwardly hitched up on one side, his plaid flannel bottoms dragging on the floor due to being too long. An older lady with grey hair neatly pinned back in a stark black dress was leaning over the kitchen counter island, flipping through a magazine. Seeing Blaine saunter in, she slammed it shut and stood erectly.

"Mr. Anderson!" she exclaimed, "I didn't hear you come in."

"Relax, Gertrude," Blaine smiled, pulling up a chair to the island and spinning the magazine around so he could read it, "Catching up on the soap opera drama I see? I'm sure that there are heart-stopping developments." He grinned wickedly.

Gertrude snatched the magazine from him and lovingly smacked him with it. "We all have out vices, Blaine," she tutted, "Now, what do you want to eat?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, she got out a carton of eggs and then began to forage for vegetables to add to the omelette she was about to make.

Gertrude was the Anderson's housekeeper and had become a sort of surrogate mother to Lauren and Blaine ever since their parents had divorced. She knew Blaine and Lauren almost as well as they knew themselves. She had seen Blaine change since he had gone to Dalton. Most of the changes had been good - he was more confident, eloquent, his music was thriving, and his grade were fantastic - but there had been draw backs, so slight that few would have noticed. He had toned-down since transferring; he had never been overly flamboyant, so this was something that Gertrude had a hard time pinpointing. It had something to do with his general atmosphere. She had noticed that he had left behind his pink Ray-Ban sunglasses and not taken them to Dalton, despite loving them and wearing them everywhere while at home.

"When did Lauren leave?" Blaine spoke up, breaking Gertrude's reverie.

"How should I know? What do I look like, Blaine - a punch out clock for this house?" she grumbled. Years had taught Blaine that Gertrude was all bark and definitely no bite.

"Gertie, you know everything that happens in this house," Blaine flattered, "You run this joint."

"And don't you forget it!"

Blaine chuckled as he slid off of the chair. "I'm just going to grab my cell phone and give Lauren a call. I assume she's with Dylan, but I just want to make sure."

"Don't be long, I don't want you breakfast getting cold and having to hear you complain," snapped Gertrude as she put the pan on the heating element.

Blaine ran up the stairs two at a time. Entering his room, he grabbed the phone off of his dresser and pulled out the charging cable. The phone vibrated immediately. Surprised, he jumped and nearly dropped it. The screen informed him he was over reacting as he had just received a new text message. He realized that it was probably from Lauren, but a little part of him whispered . . . _Kurt_.

He could not believe he had gotten the courage to kiss him. He had not planned it that way. He wanted Kurt to initiate it so that he knew for certain that he was not pushing Kurt anywhere he did not want to go . . . the firm pressure he felt reciprocated from Kurt indicated that he had not considered that kiss unwanted. But then why the lack of contact since the gig?

Blaine shook his head, his curls falling on his forehead. He tried to clear his head, get rid of images of porcelain skin, azure eyes, and silky hair.

He opened the text and was surprised to find that it was not from Lauren but rather from . . . Wes? Shouldn't Wes be with him family by now?

_I stayed behind at Dalton due to some maintenance to my plane. I'm driving to the air strip now, but I'm stopping by your place first. I have a present. - W_

Present? Wes had already given Blaine his Christmas present - a new acoustic guitar as well as a ukulele to add to Blaine's growing collection of random musical instruments - so what was he referring to? Blaine shrugged, figuring that it would be something silly that he had forgotten to add to his present initially.

Heading towards the kitchen, he began texting his sister. He was greeted by the mouth-watering smell of Gertrude's cooking when he stepped into the kitchen. After pouring himself some apple juice, he sat back down, excitedly awaiting his breakfast.

"Did you find out where the Miss is?" Gertrude asked, slipping the omelette onto a plate and bringing it over to Blaine. She leaned on the counter, facing the young man.

"Uh-uh," he mumbled, his mouth full. Swallowing, he continued, "She has not replied to my short electronic missive yet. Perhaps it went astray?"

Rolling her eyes, Gertrude said, "She's probably ignoring her nosey brother, she is."

Blaine made a face at her and hoovered the rest of his breakfast. Getting up to go upstairs and change, he thanked Gertrude for making his food and was about to inform her that Wes might be dropping by when he heard the doorbell.

_Just think of the Devil and he appears, _thought Blaine.

Blaine went to open the door and, sure enough, found Wes on his doorstep. His friend grinned wickedly at him before briefly hugging him. He was wearing a Dalton hoodie, a thick scarf wrapped around his neck, and a pair of god-awful light jeans that Blaine thought they had stopped selling in the '80s.

"Sorry for just dropping in on you like this," Wes said sheepishly.

"No problem. Do you want to come in?" Blaine gestured inside.

"No, no, my plane is waiting for me. I just dropped by to give you this." Wes bent and picked up a covered object Blaine had not noticed earlier. It looked like . . . a bird cage?

"Why are you giving me another bird? I already went through the initiation!"

"Oh, I'm not giving you this bird to keep, my naive Blaine," Wes' grin widened, "merely to pass on to its rightful owner."

"Rightful . . . owner?" Blaine inquired and lifted the cover slightly to see the little yellow warbler perched inside, "Why do you have Pavarotti? Did you steal him?"

Wes tutted. "Of course not, I would never." Blaine rolled his eyes to imply the opposite, but Wes chose to ignore it. "I saved the poor bird from certain death. Either death by broken heart at being left behind or death by starvation."

"Congratulations. Have fun looking after him for the next two weeks."

"Oh, don't be silly. My mother would freak out if I brought home a warbler again; you know how much she hates birds. He is my gift to you."

"I don't want to look after another bird! I already served that sentence out! You know that birds kind of creep me out . . . their little beady eyes watching you, their weird little side head cocks."

Wes sighed. "You know that you are really, really daft despite being ridiculously smart? The bird is Kurt's. You live relatively close to Kurt. You like Kurt. You want to see Kurt again . . ." Wes talked as if to a child, slowly and patiently, dragging out his last word until he saw understanding wash over Blaine's features. "Yes, there you go. Go give it to him! The bird, I mean, Blaine. Don't go getting ideas of corruption."

Blaine coloured. "I would never!" he huffed and indigently grabbed the cage from Wes.

"Merry Christmas," Wes smiled and headed to his Porsche, "I know you'll think of a way to thank me!" he called out before getting inside and driving off.

Blaine remained in the open doorway until the cold got to him. Shutting the door, he leaned back on it and stared at the cage. Did he dare?


	8. Chapter 8  Worlds Colliding

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**I lied! Here is a treat for you guys - another update before the new year! I hope you like it! I promised a reunion this chapter . . . and I did just that.**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Chapter Eight - Worlds Colliding**

When a cloud passes in front of a the sun, everyone notices, even if indirectly. No one noticed at first that Kurt had gotten awfully silent, that he had slumped in the couch and stopped interacting with the rest of New Directions. Everyone was too busy eating and talking excitedly amongst themselves to pick up on one silent person, even if it was the very person they had all come to see.

Rachel looked over from her conversation with Puck. She scanned the crowd for Finn first, as she always did, and saw him standing over a bowl of chips talking with Santana. It made her feel slightly better that he seemed more interested in the chips than what the brunette cheerleader had to say. Her eyes continued to scan the group until the rested on the docile shape sitting on the cough, the usually erect shoulders slumped forward.

"Rachel?" Puck exclaimed, snapping his fingers in front of her face, making her start, "Are you even listening to what I am saying? Don't you think we've sung enough Christmas carols, especially with Mr. Shue going so gung-ho at school? I think we need to join our Jew forces and make these guys sing some Chanukah songs."

"Sure, Puck. Pick some." Rachel said absentmindedly and turned away, heading to Kurt, then suddenly spun around, "And no, Puck, I do not agree that we have sung enough carols. I love caroling. It's the one time a year I can sing door to door and no one's allowed to call the cops!"

Puck stood there, unsure how to reply, as Rachel walked away.

Rachel threw herself down beside Kurt, the air rushing up and tousling his hair slightly. He did not budge to remove the stray strands of hair off his face. He turned and regarded her blankly.

"What is it, Rachel?" he asked monotonously.

"I don't know what's bothering you and you don't have to tell me. However, I do know what will make you feel better."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Duet with me. We came to sing carols, but I don't think anyone will be terribly upset of we set the bar of excellence with a non-themed song." Daintily placing her hands on her knees, Rachel awaited Kurt's reply.

Kurt had never turned down the chance to sing to an audience and he was not about to start now.

"I know just the song, come with me," he directed, standing up tall and walking over to the piano. He got out a booklet, flipped it open and showed it to Rachel. "Do you know it?"

"Of course! Excuse me, guys! We are going to start the singing now!" Rachel called, throwing her voice to get everyone's attention, "Since we've all missed Kurt, I thought it would only be fair for him to start with a song of his choice."

"So why are you up there with him, gnome?" Santana acidly queried.

"None of you can expect to match him," Rachel flared, all her annoyance at Santana barely being contained.

Kurt's hands touched the keys and a soft melody filled the room. Most exchanged surprised looks, not having known that Kurt could play the piano, let alone play proficiently. Rachel began singing.

_Daylight, see the dew on the sunflower and a rose that is fading_

_Roses wither away._

_Like the sunflower I yearn to turn my face to the dawn._

_I am waiting for the day_

Continuing to play, Kurt started singing the next verse.

_Memory, turn your face to the moonlight_

_Let your memory lead you - open up, enter in_

_If you find there the meaning of what happiness is,_

_then a new life will begin._

_Memory - all alone in the moonlight._

_I can smile at the old days, I was beautiful then._

_I remember the time i knew what happiness was._

_Let the memory live again._

The cloud was now noticed by all. Kurt sang with such feeling that they could almost feel a certain pain roll off of him. The friends exchanged looks with each other. Was Dalton not supposed to be helping him to not feel this way?

_Burnt out ends of smokey days, the stale cold smell of morning_

_The street lamp dies, another night is over,_

_Another day is dawning._

_Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise, I must think of a new life_

_And I mustn't give in._

_When the dawn comes tonight will be a memory too_

_And a new day will begin._

An interlude followed this, where Kurt's fingers flew over the ivory keys. He was not even looking at the sheet music in front of him. He closed his eyes as he played and a single tear rolled down his cheek, visible only to Rachel. Hearing her cue, she tried to not dwell on that evidence of unhappiness and she began singing.

_Sunlight, through the trees in the summer_

_Endless masquerading._

Kurt joined Rachel and they finished off the verse together.

_Like a flower as the dawn is breaking._

_The memory is fading._

The next bit was sung by Kurt alone. He belted it out, hitting the double-octave high A-sharp that "Touch me" required, and more than making up in the eyes of his friends for when he had failed to hit the high F in 'Defying Gravity'.

_Touch me!_

_It's so easy to leave me_

_All alone with the memory of my days in the sun._

_If you touch me you'll understand what happiness is._

_Look, a new day has begun._

Everyone clapped wildly when they were finished. The song had helped Kurt get his mind off of Wes' text, the forgotten Warbler, and even the angst and pining he felt in regards to Blaine. All the enthusiasm and positive energy of everyone in the room had done exactly what Rachel had intended them to do, blown away the clouds that had dampened Kurt's mood.

"Kurt, dude, I have no idea where that song is from but you rocked it!" Finn declared.

"You were super-mega-awesome-foxy-hot!" gushed Tina, causing Kurt to smile broadly.

"Guys, can we do some carols now? I don't want Santa to get sad that we're not singing; music helps guide his reindeer," Brittany spoke up.

Kurt had been filled in by Mercedes on the whole Brittany-Santa ordeal, so his only comment to her was, "Yes! Good thinking, Brittany. Does anyone have any suggestions?" as he got his Christmas piano books out.

"Let's do 'We Need a Little Christmas'!" Rachel suggested quickly, "It's a great group caroling song!"

Echoes of agreement echoed through the room. Kurt opened on of the books, flipped to the right page, and began playing. Soon, the sweet sound of Christmas and glee was filling the house and bursting through the seams.

* * *

Blaine did not know what had overcome him.

After seeing Wes off, he had dashed upstairs and showered. He had been about to slick his hair back, relying heavily upon copious amounts of gel to tame his curls back, when he realized how Kurt's eyes always lingered on his curls whenever he had had a chance to see them. Truthfully, he preferred to just leave his hair, but he had felt that the controlled hair style worked better for Dalton. He angsted over his clothes, something he rarely did now. Were those jeans too tight? Was this sweater too last season? Kurt was so impeccably well dressed whenever he saw him out of uniform, so knowledgeable about fashion, that Blaine did not want him to think that he was a slob.

He finally settled on his outfit - a pair of tight dark denim jeans and a pale pink dress shirt casually left unbuttoned over a form-fitting white t-shirt - and went bounding down the stairs, almost colliding with Gertrude.

"Gertie!" he exclaimed, narrowly missing the housekeeper, "I didn't see you there!"

"I should hope not," she huffed, "Wouldn't be the best way to greet me, would it now? And where are you dashing off to now?"

"Lima."

"Peru? That's a bit extreme even for you," Gertude raised both eyebrows and opened her eyes wide in shock.

"No, Lima, Ohio. It's just under an hour from here," he corrected and set her mind to ease.

"Good grief. I think your father would have had your head if you had used the private jet without his permission and take it to Peru on top of everything!"

Blaine kissed Gertrude fondly on the forehead then threw his jacket on and slipped his pink Ray-Bans on. "I don't know when I'll be back!" he called and waved, grabbing Pavarotti's cage as he left.

He placed the cage in the passenger seat then, slamming his door shut, simply sat in the driver's seat of his coup. His heart was beating what seemed to him to be insanely fast. He tried to breathe in and out slowly and slow it down; it did not help. He clenched and unclenched his hands, which were getting clammy.

"Blaine Anderson, you are just driving down to Lima, handing a fellow Dalton peer a belonging that belongs to them that they forgot, and then you can be on your merry way. Nothing to be nervous about," he chanted to himself under his breathe.

_Right, if you can believe that. Nothing to be nervous about - HA! _he thought as he turned the key in the ignition and drove the car out.

The drive was spent trying to figure out how the encounter with Kurt would go. Blaine figured he might get there and nobody would be home, leaving him feeling pretty shoddy as well as stuck with the care of the bird for at least another day. Texting Kurt would solve the mystery if he was home or not, but Blaine had this romanticized idea of surprising the younger boy. A lovely look of delight combined with surprise would filter over Kurt's features, he would hug him, maybe even kiss him in the excitement. If Blaine was really lucky, nobody else would be home and they would be free to just wallow in each other's presence for the afternoon.

Blaine's worst-case senario was that his parents would be home and he would have to meet Mr. Hummel. Maybe answer questions from Mr. Hummel like, "Are you dating my son? Are your intentions honorable? Please pillage him." Blaine realized the last one was highly unlikely to come up, but he could not help it. He really liked Kurt and all he had to go on was his previous relationship with Mike - which to say was a disaster would be an understatement.

His GPS guided him to the Hummel-Hudoson house. The driveway had Finn and Kurt's cars parked on one side, leaving the other open. Blaine assumed this was so one of their parents could park inside the garage, leaving another spot on the driveway for the other. Looking for a spot to park on the street, Blaine noticed that there were quite a few cars parked around Kurt's house. Blaine shrugged it off, assuming that the neighbours must be having company.

Blaine grabbed the bird cage and pressed the lock button on his remote control as he walked up the sidewalk to Kurt's house. He tousled his hair, straightened his jacket, fixed his glasses, then knocked on the door.

Nothing. No one answered. People must be home; both Finn's and Kurt's cars were parked in the driveway afterall.

Was that . . . singing he heard faintly through the door? Blaine cocked his head, trying to make out what he was hearing. Try as he might, he could not make out exactly what was being sung, or even if anything was being sung or it was the television or a CD.

Sighing, Blaine tried again, pressing the doorbell this time. He heard the chimes ring in the house and the music stopped. There were voices and then the door swung open. Instead of Kurt's open, smiling, perfect face greeting him - or even Finn's friendly one - a blonde boy with voluptuous lips opened the door.

Blaine felt the air being knocked out of him.

"Sam?" he managed to squeak before a voice Blaine did not recognize from inside the house asked, "Yo, Sam, who is it? Stop letting all the cold air in!"

"I'll go see," Blaine heard Kurt's distinctive voice and his face appeared behind Sam.

It took all of his effort to break eye contact with Sam and look at Kurt. Blaine forced himself to smile and he knew that it did not seem like his usual, genuine beam. Kurt gasped and his hands flew to his mouth and his eyes got big as saucers.

"Blaine! What are you doing here?" he breathed, but it was not a reproachful question.

Holding up the cage awkwardly - why did Sam just not _leave_ the doorway? - Blaine answered, "I brought you your friend back."

Kurt pushed Sam out of the way and tried to hug Blaine despite the girth of the bird cage trying to keep them apart. Releasing him, Kurt took the bird cage and his soft fingers grazed Blaine's own, sending jolts of fire through him.

"Thanks for bringing him! Wes texted me and told me I forgot him; I was feeling like I let down the Warblers. I have no idea how you got him, you're like magic," Kurt smiled and motioned with his free hand around Blaine, mimicking traces of magic.

"Well . . . I should go now. I see you have friends over," Blaine said, somewhat embarrassed, glancing briefly at Sam, who had not budged from his spot.

"Don't be silly! You're coming in and meeting all of my friends and joining in with our caroling and you, sir," Kurt stopped for emphasis, "will have fun doing all of this."

Blaine could not help but smile. Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the house, very reminiscent of when Blaine himself had first taken Kurt's hand and run through the halls of Dalton with him. They made their way past Sam; Blaine tried to shrink as much away from him as he could. He heard the 'click' as Sam shut the door behind them.

_No turning back now, Blaine,_ he thought as they turned the corner and he saw the large group around the piano, all staring at him. He swallowed and straightened his shoulders. _Here we go!_

"Guys, I want you to meet Blaine. Blaine, meet the faces behind New Directions!" Kurt introduced.


	9. Chapter 9  Confrontations

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**Sorry for the rather substantial delay here! But, to make up for it, this chapter is much longer than usual! There is about a month to go until Glee starts again, so I plan on having this story finished by then.**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Chapter Nine:**

**Confrontations**

Blaine was in his living room. Inside his house. Hanging out with his friends.

_Blaine Anderson._

Kurt thought he just might be in a dream, or else explode from being too happy. Was it even possible to feel this much joy at one time? He also felt sort of silly for feeling so ridiculous gleeful and nothing had actually happened. Blaine had come to see him. And was sitting beside him at the piano. That was all.

But that was _everything_.

Carols had been momentarily forgotten as everyone started chatting again, people trying to get a chance to talk to this tall, dark new boy in their midst. All knew that this was the boy that Kurt was pining for and wanted to have the opportunity to feel him out, see if he was worthy of their precious friend.

Blaine had fallen into an easy conversation with Finn first, asking him about his break thus far and and upcoming plans.

Kurt was casually chatting with Mercedes on the other side of the piano, but both were keeping an eye on Blaine and how he was interacting. Kurt tensed as Puck approached Blaine and Finn. He relaxed as he saw Puck and Blaine greet each other enthusiastically, hands shaking firmly, and begin talking. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief; Puck was the New Directions member he had been most worried about. He tended to be so brash and tough and uncouth; Kurt still remembered how he used to throw him in the garbage bins at the beginning of the last school year. Since Puck and Blaine seemed to be getting on, however, he figured that Blaine would encounter no problems with the rest of his friends.

Kurt, therefore, turned his attention back to Mercedes, who seemed to be doing everything in her power to not burst into giddy shrieks of excitement.

Blaine found Kurt's friends to be a great gathering of people. They were so diverse and each brought something different to the dynamic of the group. He could see now why Kurt seemed to miss home so much despite the fact that he had not had the best time at McKinley. Despite the presence of Karofsky and the football bullies.

The three girls in their cheerleading uniforms confused him. They must own other pieces of clothing, so why were they all wearing the uniforms? Blaine could not wait to change out of the uniform when school was in session. Besides, those small pieces of cloth did little to protect against the winter cold.

_It must be a McKinley thing, _he thought to himself.

One of the cheerleaders - the blonde, spacey one that hovered around the guy in the wheelchair, Brittany was her name? - said something so ridiculous that Blaine could not help but let out a throaty laugh. It was quickly cut short when he felt a heavy gaze upon him. Looking around, he saw Sam. He was standing at the far end of the room, listening to the other blonde cheerleader - she had a name that rhymed with Finn's, but Blaine could not recall it - talk to him. His eyes were fixed on Blaine, though his expression was unreadable.

Blaine shifted uncomfortably and tried to ignore him, tried to push away the memories, tried to focus on the happy conversation surrounding him.

Kurt felt Blaine adjusting himself. He turned to him and placed a hand softly on the other boy's shoulder. Blaine jumped and Kurt quickly pulled his hand away.

"Sorry. You okay?" Kurt inquired.

Blaine nodded, turning to face him. "Yeah, sorry. I don't know why I'm so jumpy."

Kurt smiled comfortingly. "Well, you are in a completely new situation you did not anticipate. I get it. Why don't we sing? We were doing carols earlier. I think that music is the universal language in this room."

"Actually, about that," Mercedes, who had been listening to their conversation, butted in, "We all have something for you, Kurt. Now is as good a time as any to give it to you."

"You guys didn't have to do anything for me!" protested Kurt, though he felt delighted and pleased that his friends had thought of him.

"We know," Mercedes smiled, "Guys! Let's do this! We were going to use the stereo, but, since you're here, can you play the piano bit for us, Blaine?"

"Sure! Anything to help," Blaine took the sheet music with slightly unsteady hands, still shook up about Sam's heavy stare.

"Now, you sit there," Mercedes directed Kurt to the couch as his friend gathered around the piano. Sam and Puck had produced guitars - who knows where they had stashed them in the room?

Kurt primly sat down, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees. He eagerly awaited the song to start. He had no idea what to expect. He mostly thought that they would sing something silly, like the introduction song to Sponge Bob Square Pants.

Puck started picking softly at the guitar. The song was familiar, but Kurt could not place it quite yet. As Sam's guitar joined in as well, Mercedes started to sing.

_It's empty in the valley of your heart_

_The sun, it rises slowly as you walk away from all the fears_

_And all the faults you've left behind_

Kurt covered his mouth and tried to blink back tears. Santana's powerful vocals took over the song next as Blaine started playing with them.

_The harvest left no food for you to eat_

_You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see_

_But I have seen the same - I know the shame in your defeat_

Everyone harmonized beautifully for the chorus.

_But I will hold on hope_

_And I won't let you choke_

_On the noose around your neck_

_And I'll find strength in pain_

_And I will change my ways_

_I'll know my name as it's called again_

Puck and Sam played a guitar riff in unison while Blaine pounded on the piano, following along effortlessly. He was a skilled musician and, due to his talent, it seemed like he had been previously practicing with New Directions. Tina broke away from the chorus and sang.

_Cause I have other things to fill my time_

_You take what is yours and I'll take mine_

_Now let me at the truth, which will refresh my broken mind_

Strumming a few notes, Puck picked up the song after Finn. Kurt, overwhelmed with emotion, looked back and forth from all of his friends faces. Love for them washed over him. He looked at Blaine, who, at that moment, happened to glance away from the sheet music and stare right at him. Kurt felt himself blush.

_So tie me to a post and block my ears_

_I can see widows and orphans through my tears_

_I know my call despite my faults and despite my growing fears_

Everyone joined in again for the chorus. Rachel walked over to him and sat beside him, linking arms with him as she sang.

_But I will hold on hope_

_And I won't let you choke_

_On the noose around your neck_

_And I'll find strength in pain_

_And I will change my ways_

_I'll know my name as it's called again_

A few strums followed and Quinn began singing. Rachel remained seating beside Kurt, holding his arm. He placed his hand over hers and they both looked at their friends.

_So come out of your cave walking on your hands_

_And see the world hanging upside down_

_You can understand dependence when you know the maker's hand_

_The last bit of the song was done by everyone. Even Blaine joined in, harmonizing well with the members of New Direction. Rachel pulled Kurt up and he was surrounded by his friends, singing their love and support for him._

_So make your siren's call and sing all you want_

_I will not hear what you have to say_

_Cause I need freedom now and I need to know how_

_To live my life as it's meant to be_

_And I will hold on hope_

_And I won't let you choke_

_On the noose around your neck_

_And I'll find strength in pain_

_And I will change my ways_

_I'll know my name as it's called again_

The music faded to silence and Kurt embraced anyone he could get his hands around. It meant so much to him that they had taken the time to arrange this song, that they had practiced - just for _him_. Not only that, but that they were all there for him, unfailingly, not questions asked.

"Guys, I don't even know what to say," Kurt dabbed at his eyes, wiping away tears of emotion, "You're going to make me cry on my silk shirt and ruin it!"

Finn, who happened to be beside him, laughed and clapped him on the back. "I'm sure that you can handle it. You have enough of these to have a few casualties." Kurt looked aghast but his face quickly broke out in a smile and hugged his step-brother.

"Never change, Finn," he said to him.

"Right back 'atcha," Finn awkwardly replied.

"Okay," Rachel clapped her hands together and spoke up with a take charge tone, "I hereby declare this a break. Festivities will resume in a few minutes if there is time! I know that most of us have to get going in a bit to be with our families."

Everyone scattered towards the food and drifted away from Kurt. Blaine came up to him, holding the sheet music that had been given to him.

"That was really nice of your friends. They obviously care for you a lot," he stated.

"Yes, they are wonderful. You know, I would have never thought that I would be friends with all of them? Puck used to throw me in dumpsters, the Cheerios would slushie me, Finn never really did anything but let the football team have free reign . . . all before Mr. Shue started the glee club. I would have never started talking with Mercedes and met my best friend, I would have avoided Rachel . . . Heck, I actually would probably still trying to demolish her if I was at McKinley still," Kurt paused. Feeling that Kurt was not done yet, Blaine did not say anything either. "I don't even know if I would have gotten the courage to . . . come out."

Blaine stared into Kurt's eyes; the younger boy seemed so vulnerable and exposed at the moment. Blaine had to fight his urge to just enfold him in his arm and never let him go. He opted instead for the less intrusive action of putting his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"You would have found a way, Kurt. You are too strong to stay silent," he said earnestly, "Now, if you don't mind, I am famished. I am going to grab some of this food that your friends keep devouring before it's all gone!"

Blaine headed to the kitchen to wash his hands and grab a drink, missing the case that was open in the living room. He opened the fridge and, seeing no pop there, just grabbed a bottle of water. Shutting the door and turning, he ran head first into a very hard chest. He looked up into the green eyes of Sam and involuntarily took a step back.

Sam shook his head, getting his blonde hair out of his eyes, before speaking. "Hey Blaine," he said so softly that, had Blaine not seen his lips move, he would have sworn he had not spoken at all.

Blaine took another step back and felt his back press against the cool door of the refrigerator. He tried to speak but his mouth had suddenly become dry, his tongue heavy.

"What are the odds that Kurt would transfer to your school? I couldn't believe it was you at sectionals," Sam continued in the same low, eerily calm tone.

Finding his voice, Blaine said, "I know what you mean. I could barely believe my eyes when I saw you come out, singing with that blonde girl, representing the very school Kurt had fled from."

There was a terse pause, filled with a laugh that came from the living room.

"You didn't have anything to do with Karofsky, did you? You didn't help him, Sam?" Blaine narrowed his eyes, his voice strengthening.

Sam scoffed. "Please. You think that I would still be part of glee club if I had? No, that was Karofsky all on his own. I actually got in a physical _fight_ with _him_ up for messing with Kurt - and then Artie and Mike." Blaine raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Hmph. Don't believe me, Anderson?"

"No, Sam. Call me skeptical." Blaine snapped coldly.

Sam folded his arms and glared at the darker boy. "How's Lauren?" he said at length.

Blaine clenched his jaw. "Fine," he all but growled.

Staring tensely at each other, neither boy said anything. Blaine was surprised that Sam could not hear his heart pounding against his ribcage, threatening to burst through. His palms were clammy. He tried to wipe them off on his pants but found that he was frozen to the spot.

The stare-down was broken by Sam when he spoke up. "I don't care what you've told all your new friends at Dalton, I just want to know that you haven't told Kurt," he said roughly, taking a step forward and impeding on Blaine's personal bubble.

"Kurt doesn't know," Blaine tried to shrink back, but had nowhere to go.

"And he never will?" Blaine just looked at him, refusing to answer, "And. He. Never. Will?" Same repeated, emphasizing each word.

Taking a deep breath, Blaine gritted his teeth, gathering his own courage. "I make no promises."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, annoyed, but he never got to spill any of his anger as Tina walked into the kitchen then, carrying empty chip bags and trays from the living room. She smiled at them, not noticing anything wrong. Sam took a few steps back automatically.

"Just starting to tidy up, so Finn and Kurt don't have to all by themselves!" she chirped happily as Mike soon followed her.

"Do you guys know where an empty recycle bin is? Kurt said in the kitchen somewhere?" he asked, looking around.

"No, sorry," Sam curtly said and walked out of the kitchen.

Blaine breathed out a sigh of relief then answered Mike, "I am not sure, but I'll help you look."

They ended up finding the empty bin under the sink and brought it back to the living room to be filled with empty pop cans. In no time at all, the place was cleaned up. Lauren Zizes took most of the left-over food home, but Finn insisted that they keep the home-made lasagna that Artie had brought. With enthusiastic "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays" cheers, the members of New Directions made their way out of the Hummel-Hudson household.

"I better see more of you before you go back," warned Mercedes as she hugged Kurt goodbye, "I missed you way too much, boy!"

"Don't worry, you will be seeing lots of me. I won't say too much, since there is no such thing!" laughed Kurt and closed the door after her.

Only Rachel and Blaine were left now. Blaine was at the piano, tinkering with the keys, while Rachel was fluffing up the pillows on the couches. Satisfied, she swung her jacket on and hugged Kurt tightly.

"You know my number if you need me," was all she said as she picked up her bag and made her way to the door. Kurt could see her eyes linger on Finn and quickly look away. "Well, anyways . . . have a great Christmas," she wished to the room in general, making no eye contact with anyone, and bolted out the door to her fathers' awaiting car.

"Finn . . ." began Kurt, shutting the door.

"I don't want to talk about it!" Finn said with unusual vehemence and stormed away to the kitchen.

"I love men who can deal with their emotions," Kurt thought out loud, sinking into the couch opposite the piano, so he could see Blaine head on.

"Listen, if you need to do . . . other things, I can go. I don't want to impose on you," stated Blaine, starting to stand up.

"No, don't be silly. You just had to endure non-stop hours of my friends. I don't think it's safe to drive yet. You need to build a tolerance to them!" Kurt cheekily replied, "Besides . . . you're never an imposition."

Blaine coloured slightly and ducked his head down. His fingers flew over the keys for lack of anything to do and, before he knew it, the random notes he was playing soon turned into the Moonlight Sonata. He felt Kurt slide next to him on the bench and he adjusted himself to accommodate him.

Neither spoke while Blaine played. Kurt watched with fascination as Blaine's fingers just seemed to _know_ where to go, no sheet music needed. A look of peace and serenity had settled over his countoured features as he played.

Blaine stopped abruptly and looked over at Kurt, an apologetic expression on his face.

"Sorry, that's all I remember off the top of my head," he sheepishly said.

"Oh gosh! That was fantastic! You so good! Much better than I could ever hope to be - and that is not something that often comes from Kurt Hummel's lips!" Kurt leaned in, teasing.

"I . . . I do have another song that I know off by heart," Blaine began hesitantly.

"Oh yes? Play it!" Kurt clapped enthusiastically.

"I actually wrote it."

Kurt's eyes opened in surprise. "I've never heard any of your stuff! I would love to hear a Blaine Anderson original!"

"Okay . . . if you're sure," Blaine took a deep breathe, "You'll be the first person to hear this particular song, so don't be too harsh on me."

"Just play already!" beamed Kurt at him.

Blaine's fingers flew over the keys again, much more surely than they had during the Moonlight Sonata. He started off singing softly, but his words got stronger as he played and gained confidence.

_I've been alone, surrounded by darkness_

_And I've seen how heartless the world can be_

_I've seen you crying_

_You felt like it's hopeless_

_I'll always do my best to make you see_

Blaine now turned and look directly at Kurt. His eyes were raw with untold emotions and feelings as the words poured from his lips.

_Baby, you're not alone_

_'Cause you're here with me_

_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_

_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through_

Kurt stared at Blaine. Was this song intended . . . for him? His body felt warm all over as the lyrics enveloped him and he processed them and their meaning. Blaine looked away and stared straight ahead as Kurt glanced at him from under his lashes.

_Now I know it ain't easy, but it ain't hard trying_

_Every time I see you smiling and I feel you so close to me_

_And you tell me_

Kurt did not need Blaine to look at him in order to feel the power of the words, and see how they stemmed from his very heart.

_Baby, you're not alone_

_'Cause you're here with me_

_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_

_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through_

Blaine turned and faced Kurt once more, their eyes locked. Kurt had no idea how Blaine's fingers found the proper keys, he was looking at him so intently.

_I still have trouble_

_I trip and stumble trying to make sense of things sometimes_

_I look for reasons, but I don't need 'em_

_All I need is to look in your eyes_

_And I realize_

_Baby I'm not alone_

_'Cause you're here with me_

_And nothing's ever gonna take us down_

_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through_

_'Cause you're here with me_

_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_

_'Cause nothing, nothing, nothing can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_You know our love is all we need_

_Our love is all we need to make it through_

Blaine held the last note and played the last few notes. The two sat in a comfortable silence, both looked at the white and black keys now. Blaine was not looking for reaffirmation from Kurt, but he was glad that he had played him that song. His feelings were now in the open, to be done with as was seen fit.

Kurt's hand found Blaine's. Their fingers intertwined as Kurt cautiously lay his head down on Blaine's shoulder. This all felt so surreal. Boys like Blaine did not just come across his path and then _like him back_ as well.

"When do you have to go home?" Kurt asked softly.

"Whenever you kick me out," Blaine mumbled, laying his mass of curls on top of Kurt's smooth coif.

"That will be never then," smiled Kurt.

From the kitchen, Finn shoved a giant forkful of lasagna into his mouth and watched the scene before him. It seemed that Kurt was getting what he wanted for Christmas after all.


	10. Chapter 10 Fathers

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**This is a HUGE update. Big chapter. Finally brought it more up to date to where I want it to be. I really need to update quicker so that current date mashes with story timeline. I would really appreciate everyone's everyone's input on this chapter since there is a lot of heavy stuff that means a lot to me.**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Feel free to add me on Tumblr (iules .tumblr. com - just take out the spaces, keeps deleting it otherwise) and interact with me, sending me questions, looking at my updates! ^^**

**Chapter Ten:**

**Fathers**

Blaine ended up staying only a bit longer at Kurt's house. Lauren ended up sending him a text telling him she would be home soon. Considering that he really loved the opportunity which the holidays gave him to spend time with his younger sister, Blaine knew that it was time to go. Besides, as much as he liked Kurt, Blaine was nervous about meeting his parents. What would he even be introduced as? After dealing with his own father, Blaine was wary of dealing with _anyone's_ parents.

He had hugged Kurt goodbye and vowed to keep in touch with him over the break, even if they could not see each other as often as he would have liked. The drive back home seemed much shorter to Blaine; they did not live that far apart. What was an hour drive to see those blue eyes, that soft smile?

He found himself singing out loud as he drove. This was odd for him; sure, he always sang along with the radio or his iPod, but, when driving in silence, his thoughts tended to drift and mull over problems. Songs rarely spontaneously poured out of him.

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,_

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear._

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes_

_How do you measure, measure a year?_

_In daylights, in sunsets_

_In midnights, in cups of coffee_

_In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife._

_How about love? How about love?_

_How about love? Measure in love_

Pulling up to his house, he continued humming the tune. He was in his own little world, pink tinted glasses on figuratively as well as his literal bright pink Ray-Bans, so he did not notice the silver Rolls Royce parked beside his sister's compact BMW.

He walked into his house, excited to see Lauren, to get to gush with her over Kurt the way he so often did with her over Dylan. He threw his jacket airily onto the coat hanger and, slipping off his shoes, made his way deeper inside the house. He figured that Lauren was either in the kitchen or her room; their bedrooms and the kitchen were the only rooms in the house that either of them frequented. It made him sad, when he thought about it, how most of the house was just a giant mausoleum.

Blaine peeked his head into the kitchen and found it empty, no servants, not even Gertrude, were there. He was puzzled by this lack of bodies, but shrugged it off and bound up the steps, two at a time, continuing his search for his younger sister.

Rushing into her room, he slammed into a taller, broad shouldered man with a full head of curled gray hair, increasing waistline, and hazel eyes that might have once been warm, like his son's, but were now hard and cold. Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Father, I didn't know you were coming home." he breathed.

The older man huffed and regarded his son. "Well, here I am," he said at length, "I thought that we should have an Anderson family Christmas."

Blaine suppressed his rolling eyes. "Ah," he said curtly, "And where is Lyn? Is she joining us for this lovely reunion?" He tried to keep his words from dripping sarcasm.

Lauren looked at Blaine from behind their father. Her eyes pleaded with her brother to not anger their father, to just go along with him and his fancies, to just bow his head and let everything go by. Blaine knew that he should do this, for the sake of both his and Lauren's sanity during their father's stay, but it was so hard to not snarl back at the bastard.

"Unfortunately," his father's voice was grave and sober, giving no indication of picking up on the sarcasm, "Lyn could not make it. She had a mild surgery, nothing serious of course, and is recuperating in California."

Blaine and Lauren exchanged a look, both thinking the same thing: _mild surgery equals plastic surgery._

"What a shame," Blaine said, poker faced, "And you are not accompanying her because . . . ?"

"She is being looked after just fine and I chose to spent the holidays with my children," Mr. Anderson replied with a tight smile, "Anyway, I came up to ask Lauren where you were and she said you drove to Lima? Why would you drive all that way out there?"

A panicked looked was interchanged between the siblings. Blaine knew that his sister had told her father nothing more than that. Kurt's name had not been mentioned, the fact that Blaine had a crush on this boy had also not been brought up between father and daughter. Blaine's mind tried to work quickly, trying to figure out what the best response to his father was.

"Well," Blaine began slowly, "I have a friend from Dalton who lives there and I went to visit them . . . harmless really. Just a holiday drop by."

The elder Anderson narrowed his eyes at Blaine. "Do you think I am stupid, son?" his voice was raspy and angry, "I know that you went there to see some boy. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: everything we do can affect the company. Anderson Enterprise is your legacy, created by your ancestors, and I will not see it destroyed!"

Blaine's head snapped back and anger ignited in him. "Destroy it? Because I went to visit a friend in another town? I fail to see how stock holders and your Board of Directors could possibly care about that." He tried not to shout, knowing that would only escalate the fight further, but he could not help himself.

His father inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself before replying to his son. "Blaine," his tone was that you would use with a small child when you want them to understand why they were just naughty, "Public perception can be everything. I know you and love you . . . but the world will not be so open and forgiving. Our customers, our clients, the Directors - they all require that we man the ship and look a certain way doing it. The press will start to hound you - you know this, you saw how it was for us during the divorce. You have to be careful."

"You mean I have to forever live in the closet, buried so deeply in there that I forget what I am. That I forget that I am a . . . a fag," Blaine spat the word out in disgust.

Blaine saw Lauren flinch and immediately regretted his comment. She was always so hyper-sensitive to him and his problems. He felt regret that he was having this discussion with his father in front of her. He was used to dealing with his father's tyranny and narrow-minded ideas as well as his sometimes violent outbursts, but he did not want Lauren subjected to this negativity.

"You know I have never applied that word to you, son," hissed Mr. Anderson, wagging his finger in front of Blaine.

"But you _think_ it, Father, and that is just as bad. You think I chose to be gay? You think I chose to make life, which is hard enough already, even harder? To have stigmas slapped on me, to be ridiculed and bullied, to not be able to marry the person I love? To have my father revolted by me? To have the weight of the collapse of my family's empire be placed on my gay shoulders?" Blaine exploded, letting out everything he had been keeping bottled in since his brisk transfer to Dalton the previous year.

Lauren collapsed on her bad, her hand over her mouth as tears slid silently down her face. Her brother, her perfect, warm, smiling, smart, joyful brother had undergone so much. So much that he should not have had to. Their mother no longer talked to them and Lauren suspected that it had something to do with Blaine's homosexuality. Her mind could not wrap around what was so _terrible_ about it, why everyone accorded it so much more attention than it deserved. No one seemed to care that she, like Blaine, also liked boys.

"Public opinion is not my fault," Mr. Anderson chose to address only Blaine's reference to Anderson Enterprise.

"No, of course. And Heaven forbid that AE have a gay president one day - the company would surely go to the dogs then. Stocks would be liquidated," Blaine snarled.

His father made a sound of annoyance. "I'm just saying to be discrete if you choose to . . . engage in anything. Not to go dashing to other cities, making spectacles of yourself. Why would you go galavanting around with a bird cage? Honestly, does anything process in that thick head of yours?" he queried.

"You know what, Father? Since I am so obviously not what AE needs . . . why don't you find someone else? I do not think I am what you are looking for," Blaine matter-of-factly stated and, turning on his heel, left his sister's room and walked down to his, slamming the door behind him.

He paced up and down the length of his room, trying to let the rage simmer out of him, trying not to punch a wall, a window, a mirror - anything he could sink his fist into. The immense amount of pressure he felt from his father was overwhelming. He had to get the highest marks so he could get into the best Ivy League, meet the right people, make the right connections, present the right image to the public. And he always felt like he fell short every time, like nothing that he ever did would ever appease the power Mr. Christopher Anderson.

Blaine whipped out his cellphone and was about to text Kurt before realizing that the younger boy knew virtually nothing about his home life. This would probably be a poor way of introducing him to him, Blaine figured, so he texted Joey instead.

_Tyranny Rex is home. - B_

_Oh dear. How are you holding up? - J_

_I want to go rent a bulldozer and level this house. - B_

_DON'T! I think I still have some DVDs there, I want to get them first. - J_

_Haha. I'll take them out first. - B_

_Seriously, though, you know you can just escape here for the holidays if need be. - J_

_Yeah, thanks. I just needed to get it off my chest. - B_

_Anytime, you know that. - J_

Feeling calmer, Blaine picked up his guitar and started mindlessly picking at it as he thought about what had just happened. It was the most that he and his father had gotten to discussing his sexuality. They had not referred to it since his father had asked him why he black and blue, why he had a black eye and dislocated shoulder. And Blaine had told him why. The transfer had come quickly after that, as well as the divorce and the estrangement from his parents. At least his father still talked to him, no matter how strained their relationship was. His mother . . . who knew where she was?

Blaine's thoughts became words as his fingers found a tune and he started to sing.

_I tried to be perfect, but nothing was worth it_

_I don't believe it makes me real_

_I thought it'd be easy, but no one believes me_

_I meant all the things I said_

A tear slid down Blaine's cheek as he remembered happier days. When he first entered high school, when his sexuality was not an issue, the Andersons had all gone skiing for the Christmas break. It had been their last vacation together.

_If you believe it's in my soul_

_I'd say all the words that I know_

_Just to see if it would show_

_That I'm trying to let you know_

_That I'm better off on my own_

As he played the riff, Blaine remembered how he had lied and said he was on the football team, that that was how he was getting all his injuries. Lauren had never believed him, he could see it in her eyes, but his parents had swallowed it up . . . until he came home too beaten to blame it on sports.

"Why would they do this to you, son?" his father had asked, perplexed.

"Because I'm gay," Blaine had finally confessed. His father's expression had remained neutral but the look that had overcome his mother's features . . . had made him feel revolting and dirty and worthless.

His parents had been divorced in less than a couple of months and then . . . she was gone, never to be seen from again. Lauren had cried every night for weeks after their mother left. Blaine refused to shed tears for that woman.

To his father's merit, he had gone to his school, yelled at the Head, asked if there was nothing to be done. But those boys were paying money to be at the school, just like Blaine was, so they got a gentle tap on the wrist and Blaine got Dalton and a decaying relationship with a father that had once loved him.

_This place is so empty_

_My thoughts are so tempting_

_I don't know how it got so bad_

_Sometimes it's so crazy that nothing can save me_

_But it's the only thing that I have_

If he had not of gone, Blaine was sure he would not be here right now . . . feeling sorry for himself. Either the boys would have finished him off, or he would have himself. Visions of blades, cutting, making the physical pain better than the emotional turmoil inside, had danced around his head in the last few months at his school.

And that one attempt . . .

_If you believe it's in my soul_

_I'd say all the words that I know_

_Just to see if it would show_

_That I'm trying to let you know_

_That I'm better off on my own_

Tears now reigned freely down his face as he played the guitar.

The welcoming atmosphere of Dalton had been so unexpected. People liked him, they did not care if he fancied men or women. He had friends, great grades, great clubs, a niche . . . and now, there was Kurt. It was such an unforeseen haven.

And yet, here he was, struggling against the same stigmas and problems of old.

_I tried to be perfect, it just wasn't worth it_

_Nothing could ever be so wrong_

_It's hard to believe me, it never gets easy_

_I guess I knew that all along_

_If you believe it's in my soul_

_I'd say all the words that I know_

_Just to see if it would show_

_That I'm trying to let you know_

_That I'm better off on my own_

Blaine finished and leaned on his guitar, feeling somewhat better.

On the other side of the closed door, Christopher Anderson had just listened to his son sing a song from the heart. He leaned his forehead against the door, wanting to go in and embrace his boy, but unable to.

"Do you really think it's so . . . wrong?" his daughter's soft voice asked from behind him.

The older man started. "Lauren, didn't see you there," his voice was low as he backed away from the door so Blaine would not hear him.

"Father . . . answer me," she said then quickly added, "Please."

"It does not matter what I think, public opinion is more, unfortunately, than Christopher Anderson. I just want to protect him and make him realize this."

"You don't think he does?" Lauren scoffed and walked back to her own room, leaving the patriarch alone in the wide hallway.

* * *

Kurt slept restlessly that night.

_Strong hands held him, pressing his slender body against the wall, as greedy lips hungrily kissed his neck. Quick fingers untied his bow-tie and whipped it off with a flourish then proceeded to undo the top button of his shirt. Butterfly kisses worked their way down his neck and to the hollow between his collar bones that was now visible._

A moan escaped Kurt's lips. Finn remained unmoving and slumbering.

_The mouth worked its way up his neck and started playfully kissing his mouth. A skillful tongue parted his lips and sensuously made its way inside his mouth. The nape of his neck was being stroked, sending wonderful thrills through his body, as tongues wrestled and the inside of his mouth was explored. Kurt's upper lip was caught between the attacking lips as they pulled away, closing their mouth and sucking lightly before letting go._

_His body tingled in anticipation._

_The strong body eased forward, eliminating the space between them, grinding into him and sending shocking bolts through all of Kurt's body._

_His eyelids fluttered open and he saw Blaine's warm hazel eyes._

Kurt awoke with a start.

These were not his normal dreams and he felt awkward with Finn in the room. Had he spoken out loud? Cried out? Yelled out Blaine's name? Kurt reddened at the idea. Adjusting himself, he got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom for a quick, cold shower.

He came out much too awake to sleep, so he tiptoed up the stairs and snuck into the kitchen. Making himself a tea, he wandered to the living room and sat at the piano. He trailed his fingers over the keys, recalling how just a few hours ago he had been serenaded by the most beautiful, inside and out, boy he had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

He sipped at his tea and pondered Blaine. And Blaine and him. Was there even a Blaine and him? All the obvious signs pointed to yes and yet . . . nothing had been said outright, nothing had been discussed.

Kurt hated uncertainty. He liked to know where he stood in relation to all things. He was so sure of himself and his talents that he hated having the Achilles' heel - this one area that was utterly and completely unknown.

_You're chatting to me like we connect_

_But I don't even know if we're still friends - it's so confusing,_

_Understanding you is making me not want to do_

_The things that I know I should do_

_But I trip fast and then I lose_

_And I hate looking like a fool_

Kurt sung quietly to himself and took another sip of his tea, playing the higher octaves with his right hand. He knew his father was a sound sleeper and would not hear such light plinks; Finn usually slept like a log. The only one he had to worry about waking was Carol, but she had been so tried when she came home that Kurt imagined she had just passed out when she got home.

_I just want your kiss, boy_

_I just want your kiss_

_I just want your kiss, boy_

_I just want your kiss_

_The lights are on and someone's home_

_I'm not sure if they're alone_

_There's someone else inside my head_

_Living there too fills me with dread_

_This paranoia is distressing, but I spend most of my night guessing_

_Are we not, are we together_

_Will this make our lives much better?_

_I just want your kiss, boy_

_I just want your kiss_

_I just want your kiss, boy_

_I just want your kiss_

_Whoops I think I've got too close_

_'Cause now he's telling me I'm girl that he likes most_

_Now I messed up it's not the first time_

_I'm not saying you're not on my mind_

_I hope that you don't think I'm unkind_

_I just want your kiss, boy_

_I just want your kiss_

_I just want your kiss, boy_

_I just want your kiss_

Taking the last sip of his tea, Kurt swiveled off the piano bench. Burt was leaning against the wall, watching him, arms crossed over his gray terry cloth robe. Kurt wanted to crawl inside the piano. Anywhere, really so his father would stop staring at him.

He coughed primly and shifted his weight.

"Dad, I hope I didn't wake you," Kurt said awkwardly.

"No, I was up doing some financial spreadsheets for the garage. I heard the piano and came down to see what was going on, hoping I wouldn't hear another Rory's Turn," Burt replied.

"Rose's Turn," Kurt automatically corrected, blushing even harder and hoping Burt would not notice due to the lack of light. Only the dim hallway light was on and the lamp on the upright piano.

Burt grunted and walked over to Kurt, sitting on the arm of the sofa. He regarded his son for a moment before speaking again. "Kurt, I know that you may be experiencing . . . interests in people, especially at a zero-tolerance place like Dalton," he began.

"Dad!" Kurt protested, not wanting to hear where this speech was going.

"Now, Kurt, we have to have this talk. I . . . I know that I am not the best with words, but I'm your father and I need to know that I've done all I could to prepare you so you can make the best decisions. Now . . . it sounds like there is a boy that you are with?" Burt sounded sad as he said this, wondering why Kurt was not taking him in his confidence anymore.

"Oh, no, Dad! I'm not in a relationship. There is a boy, but stuff is a lot more complicated than I though it could be if two people both like each other," Kurt smiled.

"So he . . . err, likes you back?" Burt inquired, playing with the tassels of the pillow on the sofa.

"I believe so. If he doesn't, he is sincerely one of the cruelest people alive and should be showered with polyester," Kurt tried to make light of the situation.

Burt smiled slight at Kurt's quip - at least he knew what polyester was. "What I want to say Kurt is that I don't want you to let any boy come between you and your studies. Those are number one. Are we clear?" Kurt nodded and flicked his hair out of his eyes. "Secondly, no boy is going to push you to do more than . . . err . . . than you are comfortable with. You stick to your guns. If he cares for you, he will respect you and all your decisions. Thirdly, the minute he no longer makes you happy and the minute I see you crying because of him, I will personally drive up there and show them what it means to mess with a Hummel. No one is ever going to make you cry again, Kurt. I promise you." Burt's words were heartfelt and thick, laced with held back tears.

"Oh, Dad!" exclaimed Kurt as tears slid down his face. He got up and hugged his father tightly, "How did I ever get so lucky to have a father like you?"

Burt patted Kurt on the back and embraced him back. "I'm the one who got lucky, Kurt. Now, I think we both need to go to bed. We're going to have a much more tiring Christmas season, I think, than the two of us normally did."

Kurt laughed softly. "I think Carol wants to see if she can out-Christmas me. I told her that it's on like Donkey Kong."

"I didn't know you knew Donkey Kong!" marveled Burt.

"That's what I have Finn for, Dad." Kurt announced then hugged his dad one more time, "Goodnight. Go to bed and take care of yourself. Late nights aren't good for you, you know!"

"Night, Kurt," Burt replied and walked up the stairs as Kurt headed down to his shared room in the basement.

Slipping under his down comforter, Kurt found his eyes fluttering shut. This time, his dreams were forgettable and monotonous, allowing him to have a deep and peaceful slumber.

* * *

The days passed quickly. Christmas kept everyone busy and preoccupied.

Kurt and Finn were both lavished by their parents, who wanted their first family Christmas to be everything it could be. Carol made a giant feast that served for a few days of left-overs. The days following the holiday were quiet for the Hummel-Hudsons. They all stayed in, reveling in each other's presence and presents. Kurt attempted to learn how to play some video games while wearing his new blue Alexander McQueen scarf (he had, of course, given Carol and acceptable list of designers to avoid acid washed jeans and gaudy shirts).

Burt and Carol were often nearby. The boys had gotten Burt some fancy new tools as well as a football jersey (_What terrible colours, _though Kurt as he had wrapped it) while Kurt had gone out and bought some Estee Lauder cosmetics for Carol on behalf of himself and Finn.

The family time was almost enough to make Kurt not notice that Blaine was rather silent during this time time. Sure, random text messages were sent out, generally during the early morning or late at night, when there was little family activity. Despite the fact that he knew this was a highly busy, family time - and he had to assume that Blaine's family must have friends in high places to rub elbows with - in the back of his mind, he had still expected another surprise visit.

Blaine, however, thought that the little interactions with Kurt throughout the day were the highlight of his days. His father ended up staying until just after Christmas day. The two had chosen to ignore the their previous disagreement and try to act as normal as possible, mostly for Lauren, though Blaine yearned for the days when he was close to his father.

_All I want for Christmas is acceptance, _Blaine thought Christmas morning as presents were opened. The gifts from his father were nice, but generic. Blaine, however, appreciated the gesture and wanted to offer the olive branch, so he agreed to watch football highlights with him.

When Mr. Anderson left on the 26th, Blaine felt like the giant gulf between them had shortened, if only slightly.

Now to start preparing for New Years.


	11. Chapter 11  New Years

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**This chapter ended up being longer than I thought it was going to be! There are only two more weeks until new Glee - who is excited! I don't think that I will be done this story by then ... I think I might continue in parallel with the show. We'll see. What do you guys think?**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Feel free to add me on Tumblr (iules .tumblr. com - just take out the spaces, keeps deleting it otherwise) and interact with me, sending me questions, looking at my updates! ^^**

**Chapter Eleven:**

**New Years**

New Years Eve.

It was such an odd tradition. The Earth completed another rotation and people everywhere cheered. It was like saying: _Good job, Earth! You've managed to stay in the Sun's gravitational pull for yet another cycle!_

_Any excuse for a party,_ Blaine mused.

He had needed to take his car in for maintenance after his father had left and had, therefore, been unable to drive down to Lima to see Kurt. Though he wanted to see Kurt, Blaine did not feel comfortable having him drive up. Blaine was suddenly very self conscious of his house and its vastness, it could probably fit a number of Kurt's house inside. This was an odd sensation for him; money, wealth, and possessions had never worried him before and Kurt seemed completely oblivious to them as well. Blaine supposed that this was also partially due to the fact that perhaps Kurt did not really realize just whom Blaine was connected to.

New Years Eve and Day had never been Blaine's favourite and, after the fiasco with Mike from the previous year during this festivity, he was now completely turned him off of the day.

Lauren and Dylan were going to be spending the night with their friends. Lauren had invited Blaine to tag along, but he did not want to be a third wheel nor did he want to be in a room full of strangers. Joey, meanwhile, was going to be in New York with friends from his boarding school. He had appealed to Blaine to come with him, of course, who had politely declined.

Blaine and Joey had been friends since middle school and had both purposely gone to the same high school together. Joey had, of course, always tried to stick up for Blaine whenever anyone said anything derogatory or degrading about him, but he had not always been around to stop the boys from their taunts and thrown fists. Blaine had noticed that his presence also put a strain on Joey's relationship with his own friends. They were mostly the drama kids, as Joey was doing a diploma focusing on theatre and drama, and had not integrated very much with Blaine.

That group of friend had never really been one way or the other while he had attended that high school, but Blaine wanted that part of his life forgotten. They had never been a friend when he had needed one the most, so why would he want to have them be his friends now? No, only Joey had gone out of his way for Blaine so it was only Joey that Blaine had kept.

Blaine's thumb traced the outline of the faint scar on the underside of his arm, a habit he had developed whenever he reminisced about the past.

Wes was throwing a New Years party in Florida, where his family lived, and most of the Warblers would be there. Blaine knew that he could easily get there, and he would have a decent time of it. The Warblers had really embraced him as a new part of their family and he knew that fact that he was gay was not an issue or, if it was, it was never voiced. However, Blaine was not feeling particularly festive this year, so he had turned down that invitation as well, much to the protests of both David and Wes.

"Blaine, you can't just sit at home on New Years! You will be completely alone, even Gertrude will be out!" exclaimed Lauren one day while they were eating around the island in the kitchen.

Gertrude, who was staring through the glasses placed on the tip of her nose at a catalogue, looked up and shot Lauren a piercing look.

"Miss Anderson," she snapped, "I would have you know that I have a life. I am a real girl, I promise you."

Lauren stuck her tongue out at her playfully then turned her attention to her brother. Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she stared him in the eyes. "Why are you locking yourself in the house? You're not on house arrest! This is not like other years - you have options, you have friends who want to spend the night with you," Lauren pried.

Blaine fidgeted uncomfortably on his stool. "I just don't like New Years," he finally answered flatly.

His sister rolled her eyes. "Way to completely avoid the question, Blaine. "

Blaine sipped his coffee in order to gain time and formulate his thoughts. "I just . . . I just don't want to have to deal with Father, asking to borrow the jet to fly down to Wes' party. I am fine with how we left things off and don't want to unnecessarily talk to him. And you know why I feel like I can't go with Joey to New York," he looked meaningfully at Lauren, who nodded. "I don't want to go with you and Dylan, not because I don't enjoy your company, but because I don't want you to feel obliged to look out for me. I want you to enjoy the night. Just because I do not does not mean that everyone else should suffer!"

Lauren eyed Blaine. "I don't want you sitting here on New Years with a tub of ice cream, watching 'Sixteen Candles', and feeling like Ted the Geek," she cautioned.

Blained chuckled. "Don't worry, Lauren! I promise no John Hughes movies will be played while you are gone." Lauren stuck her hand out and they officially shook.

The cellphone on the table lit up and began vibrating, moving slightly more towards the edge of the counter. Blaine picked it up and look at the screen. A puzzled expression crossed his face as he as the caller ID.

"Who is it?" Lauren inquired.

"It's Finn Hudson," he replied dubiously, as if his cellphone was deceiving him.

Before Lauren could ask anymore questions, Blaine accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he tentatively asked.

"Uh . . . Blaine?" a deeper voice on the other side asked cautiously.

"Finn? Is that you?" Blaine was confused solely because the person on the other end sounded so confused. Did he not know whom he was calling?

"Uh . . . yeah. This is. How are you?" Finn awkwardly asked.

"I've been good. Christmas went well for your family?" Blaine asked, feeling like he was pulling teeth. Finn had been a lot easier to talk to in person.

"Yes, it was actually really great! I feel like we were living in a postcard." The first sign of intonation from the boy; Blaine was relieved. "I was actually calling to see what you were doing for New Years? I mean . . . Kurt says that you probably already have plans, but I just wanted to make sure."

"Oh, Kurt's mentioned New Years?" asked Blaine. Lauren's head picked up in interest and Blaine shot her a sharp look, meaning to dissuade her from eaves dropping. Lauren merely smiled and, propping her elbows on the counter, leaned her head in her hands.

"Yeah, totally. So I was talking to some of the others and we would love if you could come and spend it with us. I mean, we all really liked you. And, you know, we understand if you have somewhere much more exciting than Lima to be . . . but uh . . . if you could come . . . yeah," Finn ended, his words failing him.

Blaine pondered how to ask what he was really thinking without being too obvious, though he doubted that Finn would pick up on his intentions even if he were being obvious. The boy would not notice subtleties if they walked up to him and slapped him in the face.

"And whose idea was it to call me? Kurt's? Did he give you my number?" Blaine reddened as Kurt's name passed his lips.

Lauren lifted one perfectly arched eyebrow and Blaine felt himself blush further. What was wrong with him? He had not blushed this long since . . . well, he did not know if he had ever blushed so much. Not even where Mike was concerned.

"Oh no, no!" Finn assured, "I mean, he totally wants you here, dude, but he would never think of calling you and breaking up your plans. I stole your number out of his phone when he was in the shower. But don't worry - I didn't read your texts or anything!" He was really quick to reassure and his tone suggested to Blaine that he was being truthful.

"I see," Blaine ruminated over this information, "Well . . . where are you guys going to be? Do you need me to bring anything?"

"So . . . you'll come?" Finn sounded stunned, as if this was the farthest thing from how he had envisioned this conversation going.

"Yeah, I would love to," Blaine surprised himself by saying. What happened to hating this holiday? To hiding from the world so he would not have to face the 'fabricated' event?

"Great! Well, in that case, Puck is throwing the party. I don't know if you really need to bring anything . . . Puck is usually pretty well covered in these details," Finn said and Blaine could not but help imagining that the mohawk sporting boy would cover everything in a less than legal manner.

Blaine grabbed a pad of paper and wrote down the address Finn gave him before hanging up with him. Ignoring his sister's curious eyes, he opened a new text message on his phone.

_Hope you won't be ridiculously drunk on New Year's. - B_

_:D We'll see! This is my first party. - K_

_I'll keep an eye on you then and see that you're okay. - B_

_How will you keep an eye on me from … wherever you're going to spend NYE? - K_

_Because I will be at Puck's. - B_

_OMG! Really? :D I'll have to be on my best behaviour then. - K_

_Nonsense! Just be yourself. There is nothing more amazing than being yourself. - B_

_Then you will have to deal with the consequences! - K_

_Deal! - B_

"Why are you grinning like an idiot?" Lauren inquired once Blaine set his phone down.

"You'll be so proud of me, Lauren - I am now a normal person. I have New Years plans. Are you happy?" Blaine grinned.

"Only if you are!"

* * *

Kurt looked around Puck's living room. He had not expected Noah to present himself so well. The house - at least the lower level that they had access to - was cleaned up and there was plenty of food and drinks, both alcoholic and not, laid out. Puck had even gotten New Years blowers and laid them out in front of the TV, which was currently on and following the festivities in Times Square.

Kurt and Finn had gotten there earlier than the others in order to help Puck with any last minute details. Now that they were all done, Kurt sank into the arm chair and crossed his legs. He watched the TV blankly, not really registering what he was seeing. Puck and Finn were chatting amicably while playing a game of foosball.

The door opened and Kurt's head whipped around to see who it was. Puck had left a note on the door to just come in so he would not have to be bothered to keep having to go answer the door. Rachel and Mercedes came in, wrapped up warmly in their jackets, snowflakes gently clinging to their hair and eye lashes.

Puck looked up and nodded at them, then continued his game. The two girls kept chatting as they removed their coats and tossed them over Kurt and Finn's. They each sat on either side of Kurt, linking arms with him and snuggling in close. Kurt tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere for him to retreat to.

"You girls are so cold! Stop trying to consume all of my heat and talent! through osmosis That would be considered cheating for Sectionals!" protested Kurt.

Rachel placed her head on his shoulder and buried further into him. "Kurt, I am sure that using you as a source of heat will not have you precious talent flee from you to us."

"I'm sure you would find a way to make it happen," he grumbled, but a smile pulled up at the corners of his lips.

What was he going to do once school started again and he would not see his friends for long periods at a time? He brought his arms closer to his body, bringing the two girls closer to him. He wanted to cherish every moment with them.

The rest of New Directions trickled in. Brittany's dad dropped her and Artie off and they were followed by Santata, who mumbled something about cutting out early and going to another party before midnight. Kurt rolled his eyes; she was not going to go anywhere.

He left the living room to go to the kitchen so he could check his phone and not be questioned about it. No missed calls, no text messages awaiting to be read. Where was Blaine? Maybe he had changed his mind and was going to one of those flashy, celebrity ridden parties that Kurt imagine all wealthy people had access to. Why would Blaine come to Lima, Ohio when he could go to New York or Hollywood?

Sighing, he shoved his phone in his jean pocket and headed back to the living room. The room had exploded with people. Everyone had shown up in the time it had taken Kurt to leave and come back. Puck's house was smaller than the Hummel-Hudson house, so there was less room for everyone, but that was somehow a positive; it just seemed to bring them all together.

Lauren Zizes was now playing foosball with Noah and Kurt could not help but smile. Everyone in the club knew how attractive she found Puck and, for some off reason, Puck was not only tolerating her but was actually being friendly.

_Will wonders never cease? _Kurt thought.

"Here, Lady Face," a voice said from behind him and a tall glass filled with a blue liquid was handed to him.

Turning, Kurt saw Santana, hair pulled tightly back in a ponytail, but for once not wearing the Cheerio uniform, offering him the drink while nursing her own identical one.

"What is it?" he asked, observing it.

"Never mind that. Just drink up," she smiled coyly at him.

"I've never drank before," Kurt hesitated.

"Well, you won't be able to say that after tonight!" she laughed.

Shrugging, Kurt grabbed a straw from the table and plunked it in the drink. He sipped at it. He could taste the alcohol in it, but it was not that strong. Or maybe it was and the delightful taste of the drink masked that. Whatever it was, Santana knew her drinks and had made him one amazingly delicious one.

Santana became his designated bar tender. Whenever his drink was done, only a few moments would pass before he found himself holding another drink. All the drinks were of a wonderful array of colours and, for the most part, were delicious.

He walked over to Mercedes and hugged her tightly. Surprised, Mercedes patted him on the back and regarded him oddly as he pulled away. Mercedes took a sip of her orange juice as Kurt undid the button of his teal sweater. He was suddenly very warm.

"Mercedes!" he exclaimed exuberantly.

"Yes, Kurt?" her voice was wary.

Kurt placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned forward, as if to share a confidence. Mercedes and Tina, whom she had been talking to, shared a look. Being two of only a handful of fully sober people in the room, they were wondering what could possibly come from their friend's mouth.

"I love you!" he announced, smiling broadly.

"Thank you, Kurt," Mercedes smirked at him and tried to prop him up off of her, "I think you would love Coach Sylvester tonight," she muttered under her breathe.

"Who are you ladies kissing at midnight?" Kurt took another sip from his glass as he regarded his two friends.

Tina gestured to Mike, across the room and talking with Artie and Sam. "Asian kiss," she giggled.

Mercedes snorted. "The back of my hand," she sarcastically replied.

Kurt nodded, eyes wide, as if Mercedes had just revealed Earth-shattering information. As he finished his drink and placed it on the coffee table by him, a new drink found its way into his hands. He stumbled back to Mercedes and Tina, colliding with the latter, who caught him and kept him from falling.

"Kurt, don't you think you've drunk enough?" worry lined Mercedes words.

"No," Kurt replied flatly, "It's New Years. If I am not going to get a kiss I might as well get a Kiss on the Lips." He burst out laughing. Santana had told him that that was the name of one of the drinks she had made him. Tina and Mercedes, unaware of this piece of information, shared another look.

The door opened then and Blaine walked in. He had had to drive Lauren and Dylan to their party since Lauren's car was out of gas; then he had to backtrack and made his way to Lima. He had wanted to be there earlier and felt terrible for his tardiness. Driving down, he had reached for his cell phone to text Kurt of his reason for tardiness and discovered that he had forgotten his cell phone at home.

Of course, he had thought, Oh well, it's too late for me to turn back now to get it.

He threw his leather jacket on the pile by the door and made his way inside. The familiar faces were all there already - Sam's included, unfortunately. On the bright side, though, he was now playing a game of beer pong with Puck and all signs pointed to the fact that he was loosing horribly. At least Sam would not be a bother tonight.

Blaine entered the room somewhat awkwardly, holing the bottle of champagne that he had brought with him close to his chest, having it act as a sort of security blanket. He saw the cooler filled with ice and placed the bottle there. A hand placed itself on his shoulder as he got up and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Turning, saw that it was Finn who had grabbed him.

"Hey, Finn!" Blaine grinned, "I'm so sorry about being late."

"Don't worry about it. I think you got here while you could still save Kurt from Santana, though," Finn stated and cocked his head in a direction behind him.

Blaine's heart leapt in his throat. Kurt from Santana? What did Finn mean? What was going on? He looked over Finn's shoulder and saw Kurt leaning against the wall, holding a tall drink, talking with Mercedes and the Asian girl whose name he forgot. Santana was nearby, pouring more drinks that resembled the one Kurt was currently holding.

"How many has he had?" Blaine asked.

Finn shrugged. "I dunno, dude. I think even one would have been too much for him. He's never drunk before. Except, you know, the odd glass of wine at dinner when Mom has one."

Blaine's brows knitted with worry. "I'll go see if he needs anything."

"Thanks, man." Finn smiled, "I think he would rather you than me."

Blaine walked over to Kurt. "Hey guys!" he called out as he approached them.

Kurt saw him and a delighted expression washed over his face. He threw himself off of the wall and took a few unsteady steps towards Blaine, hugging him tightly when he reached him. Blaine felt some of the drink spill down the back of his plaid shirt and he sighed internally.

Mercedes smiled apologetically at him. "He started before the rest of us and, by the time we realized, he was just too far gone."

Blaine nodded. "Don't worry, I got it from here. You guys go to the countdown. It's less than half an hour!" Mercedes hesitated, as if asking if he was sure. "Go! Have fun! I insist," he pressed and the two girls slowly left, looking back at him and Kurt, as they went to integrate with their other friends.

Blaine unwrapped Kurt's hands from around him and slowly led him to the kitchen.

"Why are we here?" slurred Kurt.

"I'm getting you some water and bread," Blaine calmly explained as dumped the rest of Kurt's drink down the sing.

He poured him a glass of water and handed it to Kurt. As Kurt sipped the water, Blaine searched for bread. Finding it, he took a slice and held it out to Kurt, who made a face and pushed it away.

"I'm not hungry," he protested.

"I am positive you're not," Blaine agreed, "But eat it anyways. For me."

Making a face, Kurt grabbed the bread and took a vicious bite out of it. Blaine laughed, glad that being inebriated did not damped Kurt's inner diva.

"I thought you weren't going to come. I thought you had found better people to spend New Years with," Kurt said quietly while still chewing, so at first Blaine was not sure what he was hearing.

"Kurt!" he exclaimed in shock, "I would _never_ ditch you. Ever. There are no _better_ people to spend this night with than with you. I would have come tonight to wherever you were if you wanted me there."

Kurt swallowed and took a sip of his water. "I did want you here," he said honestly, his large eyes boring into Blaine's.

Blaine reached his hand out and cupped Kurt's cheek. He smiled at the younger boy and leaned forward. He did not want to take advantage of Kurt's current state, so he swept a stray piece of hair off of his face instead. Just being so near to him was sufficient for him.

"Blaine . . ." Kurt said thickly.

"Yes?" Blaine unconsciously leaned in further.

"I think I'm going to puke. I don't want to repaint Puck's kitchen with my insides, even though anything would be an improvement to their current colour."

Blaine couldn't help but chuckled as he quickly moved away from Kurt in order to avoid any spray of sudden sickness. He grabbed the glass of water in one hand and wrapped his other hand around Kurt, not thinking about the ease his hand slipped around Kurt's slender waist.

"Lets get you to a bathroom," Blaine said gently.

Moving out of the kitchen, Blaine followed the hallway until he found the bathroom, which was, thankfully, unoccupied. He closed the door behind them and led Kurt to the toilet. He motioned for him to sit down on the floor as he lifted the lid.

"Oh my Gaga, I feel so mortally embarrassed," confessed Kurt, "I was just kidding when I said you had to deal with me."

"It's my pleasure to deal with you," Blaine smiled serenely.

Kurt snorted in disbelief then all of a sudden heaved his head over the toilet. Blaine stroked his back until he was done. He waited patiently for Kurt to lift his head; he took a wet towel and wiped Kurt's face before handing him the water.

Tears ran down Kurt's face.

"Why are you crying?" Blaine asked, alarmed.

"You're going to hate me after tonight. You'll never speak to me again! I'm such a fool!" Kurt managed to get out between sobs.

Blaine took Kurt's face between his hands and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. He waited for Kurt's eyes to meet his before speaking.

"Stop kicking yourself. You did nothing but act like a normal teenager. It will take a lot more than getting drunk to make me hate you and stop talking to you."

"Promise?" hiccuped Kurt.

"Promise."

"I'm going to be sick again," announced Kurt and turned back to the toilet.

"_Ten!_" the yell came from the living room.

"Only ten more seconds in 2010," murmured Blaine to Kurt, who was dry heaving.

"_Nine!_"

"Oh, thank God." Blaine heard Kurt say.

"_Eight!_"

"I am never going to drink again," swore Kurt, raising himself from the bowl.

"_Seven!_"

Blaine watched Kurt drink and was surprised how, even at such a low, disheveled moment, he still seemed perfect to him.

"_Six!_"

Kurt put down the glass and just sat there. He placed his head in his left hand and propped his elbow up on the toilet.

"_Five!_"

"I think that it's mostly over and out of my system. I'll be okay," Kurt confidently announced.

"_Four!_"

Blaine raised a dubious eyebrow and looked over Kurt. He was still very pale and did not seem like it was 'over'.

"_Three!_"

"Nope. Not over," gasped Kurt, eyes wide open.

"_Two! One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!_" The noise coming from the living room suggested everyone had a blower and was using it to the best of their ability, blowing with all their might.

Head buried in the toilet, getting soothed by his very own Prince Charming, Kurt Hummel ushered in the new year, his friends just outside, cheering and reveling in the fact that they were all, momentarily, together.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt managed to mumble in a coherent moment.

"Never you mind," Blaine answered softly, brushing the hair out Kurt's face, "There is no other way I would have rather spent my New Years than here with you."


	12. Chapter 12 Something There

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**GUYS - NEW GLEE ON SUNDAY! Who is excited? I definitely won't be done the story by then ... I think I might continue in parallel with the show. We'll see. What do you guys think?**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Feel free to add me on Tumblr (iules .tumblr. com - just take out the spaces, keeps deleting it otherwise) and interact with me, sending me questions, looking at my updates! ^^**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Something There**

Thank goodness for the few days after New Years before school started again.

Waking up New Years Day, Kurt thought that his skull would split open. He turned his head and felt as if his brain crashed against the inside of his head. Wincing, he opened his eyes. He was thankful of his basement bedroom that kept out the bright morning sunshine; he was not sure that he could handle it right now.

At first, he thought that it was Finn sprawled out on the bed opposite to him - the dark hair was his giveaway. Upon closer observation, Kurt realized the person could not be Finn. For starters, they were too short, and their hair was curly. But . . . the person was wearing Finn's plaid pajama pants?

Kurt tried to get up and get a closer look. The brisk change in elevation did not sit well with his body in its current state. Groaning, he let himself fall back down into his pillow. He placed his hand on his forehead, trying to suppress the headache.

The person in Finn's bed stirred and turned over and Kurt was greeted by Blaine's serene face. He frowned slightly in his sleep and Kurt could not help but smile.

A wave of nausea rolled over him and groaned as he shot straight up, looking to see if a garbage can was anywhere nearer to him than the bathroom was. He saw one placed right beside his bed, which he quickly picked up and hugged, waiting for the spell to pass over.

Blaine stirred and his eye lids fluttered open. His eyes confusedly look around and, settling on Kurt, recognition washed over his features. He bolted upright, looking concerned.

"Kurt! Are you alright? What can I get you?" he inquired, slurring his words due to the rapidity at which he was talking.

Kurt shook his head slowly. "Unless you can get me a new head and stomach, no," his voice sounded thick and coarse to his ears.

Blaine fidgeted, pulling at the shirt he was wearing - Finn's Bon Jovi concert T-shirt. He grabbed the glass of water and Asprin bottle from beside Kurt's beside and held onto them, ready to give them to Kurt whenever he requested.

"How did we get here?" Kurt asked as the compulsive feeling of wanting to vomit passed by. He reached out for the glass and took a sip, relishing it passed down his parched throat. He then shook out two Asprins and swallowed those down as well.

"I drove us here. I figured you would be better off at your own house than at Noah's," Blaine shrugged, "I hadn't had anything to drink so it was all good," he quickly said as Kurt's eyebrows shot up.

"That wasn't my concern," Kurt said slowly, taking another sip, "I just feel awful for ruining your night, making you leave the party early and all that."

"Not to mention having to look after your puking all night," Blaine chuckled at the distraught expression on Kurt's face.

"I didn't . . . _vomit_," Kurt spat the word out with distaste, "on you, did I? I would die of shame if I did. Oh dear sweet Gucci, please say I didn't."

"Don't worry," Blaine ran a hand through his curls, "I managed to contain you to porcelain bowls. So much for you being on your best behaviour, right?"

Kurt held his head due to a combination of it aching and of shame. "I feel like a grade A ass," he mumbled, "An ass who got severely beat the night before."

"Don't worry about it. Here, lets go upstairs and I'll make you some wonderful, greasy food to help with your hangover," Blaine stood up and held his hand out, waiting for Kurt to take it so he could help him upstairs.

"I hope that will make this awful feeling pass," mumbled Kurt as he placed his hand in Blaine's and stood up. His grip on the other boy tightened as a wave of dizziness hit him.

"This will teach you to drink again!" Blaine merrily commented as they made their way up the stairs.

"Trust me," Kurt groaned as he slipped into a chair at the kitchen table, "I don't think I will be drinking for a long, _long_ time. And if and when I do, it will be far, _far_ away from Santana."

Chuckling, Blaine foraged through the fridge, grabbing eggs and bacon. He opened cupboards until he found the pans and, taking one, began making breakfast. "Yeah," he said at length, "I would say that staying away from her combined with alcohol would be a good idea. She is like a tank; she was rivaling you in drinks!"

"And she was still standing by the end of the night?"

A pause, then, "More or less."

"Blaine, seriously, thank you so much for taking care of me. I feel so, so embarrassed," Kurt muttered, looking down.

He suddenly realized that he was wearing his own pajamas and not the outfit he had donned the night before. A slow blush crawled up his neck and blazed on his cheeks. He did not know if Blaine had dressed him or if he had gotten him to dress himself . . . and he did not really want to know either. He played awkwardly with his buttons while Blaine, whistling cheerily, prepared the food.

Kurt's head jolted upright suddenly, causing more nausea to sweep over him. "Where's Finn?" he asked.

"I think he must have crashed at Noah's? I know that a few people drove so I guess he could have gotten a ride with someone somewhere?" Blaine guessed as he kept cooking.

"I'll text him and see where he is," Kurt said and got up to go get his cell phone, then promptly sat back down, "I'm sure he's fine. I'll text him later."

Dividing the food onto two plates, Blaine brought it over and set them down, prancing back to the kitchen to refill Kurt's water glass. Sitting down at the chair adjacent to Kurt's, they began to eat in silence. Kurt was focusing on getting the food down and fighting against his body's instincts to bring it back up.

"It's okay?" Blaine asked, worried.

Kurt smiled. "It's wonderful. I'm afraid that your taste tester is the one who is less than alright."

"That's probably for the better," Blaine grinned back, "My culinary skills are pretty limited. Everything I know I picked up by hanging out in the kitchen and watching our cook. So . . . I can only make you a few more things before my bag of tricks is empty."

Blaine's cell phone vibrated and he picked it up from the table. He read the text and then quickly typed back an answer before shoving more scrambled eggs in his mouth.

"David says happy new year," Blaine announced with a full mouth.

Kurt blinked. "Oh gosh, they won't know about my horrible display last night?"

"Kurt, seriously, I am sure that whatever went on at Wes' party constituted at least your level of inebriation. To answer your question, no, David does not know, he only knows that I spent it with you," Blaine's cheeks flushed slightly, "If you do not want them to know, mum's the word."

"I would really appreciate it," Kurt sighed with relief.

"My lips are sealed then," Blaine pretended to lock his lips and throw away the key.

When Kurt had finished, Blaine gathered the dishes and went to clean them, Kurt's protests to not bother with the dishes falling on deaf ears. Blaine hummed to himself as his cleaned up, using much more dish soap than needed. Drying his hands, he turned and found Kurt leaning on a counter, just looking at him.

Blaine had been right, getting food and liquids into him had helped him feel immensely better. He did not feel up to any sort of activity, but at least he no longer felt like a shadow of himself. He had watched Blaine moving around his kitchen with such ease and he felt surreal. Was Blaine actually in his house, looking after him, making him food?

Getting up, he had shuffled into the kitchen, leaning on the countertop, observed Blaine. Finn's pants and shirt were both too long and big on Blaine's frame, but Kurt found this endearing. Blaine was humming the tune to a song that was eerily familiar yet he could not quite place it.

He jumped when Blaine turned.

_I must look so creepy, just standing here,_ Kurt thought to himself.

"Thank you for the food," he managed to choke out, "When do you have to be going?"

A hurt expression flashed over Blaine's face before he got his features under control. "As soon as you need me out of your hair, I can go back," he answered sweetly, though somewhat guarded.

_You, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, are an idiot,_ Kurt snapped at himself.

"No, no," he quickly said, "I don't want you to go, you can stay here all day if you want." Forever even, he thought to himself. "I just wondered when you parents wanted you back?"

Blaine shook his head and chuckled harshly. It was a sound Kurt had never heard coming from Blaine and it slightly threw him off.

"My father is not at home and, even if he was, my whereabouts would not concern him as long as I was not making a fool of myself, him, or our name," Blaine said bitterly then, realizing he was getting into murky territory he did not want to discuss, quickly changed the subject, "What do you say we watch sappy John Hughes' movies today? Nothing to bring in the new year but old classics."

"That sounds lovely! What do you want to start with? Do you want to work our way through them chronologically and start off with Sixteen Candles?" Kurt asked, moving towards the family room.

"Yes, lets skip National Lampoon. I need some Long Duk Dong in my life today! Then we should move onto Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink."

"And finish with Ferris Bueller's Day Off!" Kurt excitedly exclaimed, turning on the television as he sat down and motioned to the DVD tower to Blaine.

Blaine grabbed a DVD off the tower and popped it into the player. He took a throw off of the arm chair and brought it with him as he sat down beside Kurt. He spread it over them as the disc started to play.

"Thank you so much for all of this, really, Blaine," Kurt murmured, his eyes fixed on the screen ahead of him.

Blaine looked at his profile and tried to take it all in: the slightly upturned nose, the long lashes resting on rosy cheeks, the alabaster skin, and the tousled hair. This was the first time Blaine had witnessed Kurt with his hair uncoiffed, just messily falling everywhere, strands lazily covering his forehead.

Blaine found Kurt's hand under the throw and squeezed it.

"It's the least I would do for you," Blaine answered, his eyes flicking away from Kurt's profile and onto the television, trying to watch the movie. He did not let go of Kurt's hand and he was thrilled to realize that neither did Kurt.

They unconsciously snuggled closer together, Kurt resting his head on Blaine's shoulder, as they watched the movie. Kurt's focus shifted from between the movie and observing Blaine from under his lashes.

Neither of the boys heard the footsteps down the stairs, the hushed talking that stopped abruptly.

Burt, walking in front of Carol, stopped suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, causing Carol to come crashing into him. He put a finger to his lips and motioned towards the rec room. Confused, Carol looked over and saw the two heads, one dark and curly, one lighter, leaning against each other. She turned back to Burt and shrugged.

"What do we do?" he mouthed.

Carol shrugged again and motioned up with her hands, indicating to him: _How do you want me to know?_

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. "Morning, boys!" he called out, louder than normal, "Happy new year to you two! Hope the party was good!" He then tried to quickly shuffle away into the kitchen before he had to deal with whatever was happening on the couch.

Kurt just turned his head while Blaine pushed away, leaving some room between him and Burt's son. He could not believe he had forgotten about the possibility of Kurt's parents being home! Not every parent was like his - constantly absent.

"Hey Dad, Carol!" Kurt's face lit up on seeing his parents, "Happy new year! Tell me about your night!"

Burt and Carol exchanged a look. She cocked her head slightly and motioned towards the rec room. Burt cast her a look and then turned around, taking a seat in the armchair. Carol sat on the arm of the chair and smiled at the boys.

"Kurt, you look pale," Burt noted, concerned, "Are you ill?"

Kurt laughed weakly. "No, Dad, I just . . . needed to learn my limits."

Burt grunted, but did not start on a lecture on the dangers and consequences of drinking, for while everyone in the room was most grateful for. He figured that was a talk for when it was just him and Kurt. Besides, the boy looked like he had learned his lesson.

"By the way, Carol, Dad, this is my friend Blaine from Dalton," Kurt motioned to Blaine.

For the first time in a long while, Blaine let go of Kurt's hand so that he could lean forward and shake Burt and Carol's hands.

"I am pleased to meet you both," he said authentically, smiling broadly at them, "Sorry you had to meet me while I am borrowing Finn's pajamas!" Blaine laughed slightly as Burt and Carol joined in. Kurt squirmed uncomfortably, imagining what could be going through his father's head about just why Blaine needed to borrow a set of pajamas.

"Carol and I had a great time last night. The Smiths threw a great party," Burt stated.

"And you didn't want to go initially!" Carol playfully hit Burt on the shoulder.

Burt shrugged and grinned goofily up at his wife. "I am putty in your hands," he said and the two pecked quickly.

Kurt turned to face Blaine, almost dying of second-hand embarrassment, fearing that Blaine would be horrified at the display. Instead, he found Blaine smiling almost wistfully. Blaine's hand found his and he squeezed it slightly, then let go, letting his hand fall beside Kurt's so that they brushed each other's. Kurt's face went red as he realized that their hands were no longer under the throw but on top of it, visible to his father and Carol. If they saw the hand holding or minded, neither Burt nor Carol said or did anything about it.

"Anyways, we'll just leave you two to your movies," Carol gestured to the stack of DVDs on the coffee table, "And I better get some food in your father before he gets too grumpy!"

Burt snorted, but quickly followed Carol to the kitchen.

"Your folks seem really nice," Blaine commented as they left.

"Yeah," Kurt smiled softly, "I am really lucky. My Dad is . . . amazing. We had a scare earlier this year and . . . it really opened my eyes to a lot of things." Kurt hugged himself, lost in reverie, as his eyes glazed over with a sheet of tears.

Unsure of what else to do, Blaine squeezed Kurt's knee in support.

"You know what, why don't we take a singing break before the next movie?" Blaine asked suddenly.

"Sure. Did you have anything in mind?"

"Well . . . since we're reminiscing with these movies, why don't we do a song from childhood?" suggested Blaine, trying to rack his brain for ideas.

"Like Disney?" Kurt put forward, hoping that Blaine would not think him silly or juvenile.

A wide smile spread over Blaine's face. "That's brilliant! I love Disney! Do you have any Disney piano books? I don't know any off by heart," he said, almost ashamed of this fact.

"Yeah, they should be in the over there," Kurt motioned to the shelf by the piano as he got up and slowly began walking to the piano, just in case his nausea decided to come back suddenly.

Blaine observed the books and picked one, excitedly waving it at Kurt. "Let's do Beauty and the Beast! They have great songs! Any will do," he exclaimed and let the book fall open on its own, "Do you know Something There?"

"Of course! I know all of Belle's songs. But who will do the part of Mrs. Potts or Lumiere or Cogsworth?" Kurt asked, looking the song over.

"We can just spilt them up as we go," Blaine suggested and started playing, "I'll take the Beast, as if fitting." He shook his head, making his hair fall in a crazy manner, and sneered at Kurt, trying to impersonate the Beast.

Kurt giggled and waved him off. Hearing his cue, he took a sip of water and began singing. His voice was slightly hoarse but gained power as he went.

_There's something sweet and almost kind_

_But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined_

_But now he's dear, and so unsure_

_I wonder why I didn't see it there before_

Blaine took a final look at the sheet music, then glanced directly at Kurt as he continued to play and began singing.

_She glanced this way, I thought I saw_

_And when we touched she didn't shudder at my paw_

_No it can't be, I'll just ignore_

_But then she's never looked at me that way before_

Kurt blushed. Was Blaine actually singing to him? How bizarre that this, out of all the songs in that book, was the one that had been randomly picked.

Burt and Carol stopped eating and looked over from the kitchen table, observing Kurt and this boy from Dalton. The boy was certainly a skilled musician and his voice complemented Kurt's wonderfully. They smiled at each other, watching the scene unfold.

Finn and Puck walked into the house. Throwing off their jackets, they remained quiet, hearing the song being played.

Kurt sang the next part.

_New and a bit alarming_

_Who'd have ever thought that this could be?_

_True that he's no Prince Charming_

Blaine stuck his tongue out at Kurt, who struggled to keep a straight face and continue on with the song.

But there's something in him that I simply didn't see

Finn and Puck ribbed each other, knowing what the other was thinking. Just as Blaine was about to take Lumiere's line, Finn skipped over to the piano and sang the line.

_Well, who'd have thought?_

Puck came up on the other side of the piano and sand Mrs. Potts' part.

_Well, bless my soul_

Finn and Puck alternated lines, Finn taking on both Cogsworth's and Lumiere's, as Kurt stared at them with an awestruck expression.

_Well, who'd have known?_

_Well, who indeed?_

_And who'd have guessed they'd come together on their own?_

_It's so peculiar. Wait and see_

Together, with wide grins spread over their faces, they chorused:

_We'll wait and see, a few days more_

_There may be something there that wasn't there before_

Finn sang alone, ruffling Kurt's hair. Kurt tried to brush him off but was still too stunned.

_Perhaps there's something there that wasn't there before_

Puck sang the last line as Blaine, who was barely containing his laughter, finished off the song. Burt and Carol were howling at the breakfast table, imagining Puck as Mrs. Potts.

_There may be something there that wasn't there before._

Burt and Carol clapped when the song was over, causing Puck and Finn to bow dramatically. Blaine joined in on the clapping while Kurt brought up his hand and covered his mouth, eyes wide, still unsure he had heard Finn and Puck sing along to a Disney song.

"Happy new year, dear!" Carol called from the table to her son.

"Happy new year, Mom!" Finn said, going over to hug his mother, "I hope you guys had a good night!"

"We sure did!" Burt clapped Finn on the shoulder, "You?"

"Well, couldn't have been better than Kurt's," Finn cheekily replied, causing Kurt to blush anew, and turned to go back to the rec room.

"How was the rest of the party?" Blaine asked Puck.

"Oh, it was great - people passed out everywhere. No one could top Kurt's performance, of course. What a diva." Puck grinned, winking at Kurt.

"Okay, get over it," snapped Kurt, "I got drunk. Ridiculously drunk. I'm sure that it's nothing you haven't done before, Noah."

"I would never puke like that," Puck answered, bristling up at the thought of not being able to hold his liquor.

"Puck and I are going to just chill today. We grabbed some burgers and are going to play Black Ops now. Do you want to join in, Blaine? I know that Kurt is a lost cause." Finn asked.

"I would love to, I just don't want to overstay my welcome," replied Blaine, wanting to spend more time with Kurt, but also realizing he needed to get home at some point during the day and not only spend time with Lauren, but also start on some assignments that were due after the break.

"Dude, you're wearing my PJs. I really don't think that a game of Black Ops would be overstepping anything," Finn gestured to the clothing Blaine was wearing.

"He's got you there, man. Kurt, can you spare him?" Puck interjected.

"Of course. There is nothing I would enjoy more than watching you three mindlessly mash buttons so you can kill each other, or whatever you do in the game," he dramatically said.

"Great!" grinned Finn and started setting up the game.

Kurt rolled his eyes and followed Blaine over to the couch, curling up under the throw and slightly resting his weight against him. Blaine patted his knee.

"Courgae, Kurt. You can get through this," Blaine playfully laughed and Kurt made a face at him.

Kurt did not actually mind watching the game, especially since the boys provided him with lots of entertaining commentary. Blaine let him have a go for a bit, but, due to Kurt's complete lack of skills at the game, Finn and Puck begged him, as nicely as they could, to give the controller back to the other boy.

Grudgingly, after the game, Blaine went to change into his own clothes, saying he would wash Finn's clothes at his own house.

"Dude, don't be crazy. I have so many clothes that need to be washed anyways, a shirt and pant isn't going to break the machine!" protested Finn, grabbing his pajamas from Blaine, "Besides, you would totally steal my Bon Jovi shirt."

Blaine rolled his eyes and did not fight Finn on the matter. Kurt walked him to the door, shyly leaning against the wall as Blaine tied his shoes and slipped on his jacket. He stood by the door awkwardly.

"Well . . . thanks for having me over. I'll see you at school in a couple of days," Blaine managed to mutter, not knowing just how to say goodbye to the doe-eyed boy before him.

Kurt unexpectedly hugged him, holding on tightly. Blaine hesitated, but then squeezed him back, their bodies moulding to each others. Blaine rested his head on Kurt's shoulder, taking in his sent and the feel of his body underneath his thin shirt.

"I just want to thank you for . . . for being you," Kurt thickly whispered in his ear, "And to say that . . . school can't start soon enough." He unexpectedly kissed Blaine on the cheek and stepped away, eyes wide, not knowing if he was out of line.

"Happy new year, Kurt," Blaine smiled and cupped Kurt's face, stroking his cheek with his thumb, but refusing to do anything more brash.

With a final look at Kurt, Blaine left the Hummel-Hudson house and headed home to a a few days of homework and quality time with his sister.


	13. Chapter 13  Rivals

**Hey everybody!**

**Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them. ****Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think!**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It really means a lot to read all of your comments …**

**GUYS - NEW GLEE TONIGHT! Who is excited? Twice in one week, I don't know how I can handle this much!**

**As you will notice, I have sampled parts of the episode and put them into my story. I am kinda OCD about canon stuff? I mean, Kurt still dorms at Dalton, but ... like ... I do like to follow plot. **

**Thanks so much guys! :3**

**Feel free to add me on Tumblr (iules .tumblr. com - just take out the spaces, keeps deleting it otherwise) and interact with me, sending me questions, looking at my updates! ^^**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Rivals**

The drive back to Dalton seemed to take forever. On one hand, Kurt was anxious to be back, to be attending Warbler practice again, to work on developing his friendships with David, Wes and the rest of the Warblers, and especially to seeing Blaine on a daily basis. On the other hand, he would miss home and his friends at McKinley even more so now. Strangely, he had never felt closer to that group of misfits than he did now.

That morning, Carol had made him chocolate chip cookies to bring back with him and their smell filled the car, making Kurt's stomach rumble in anticipation. Burt, meanwhile, had looked his car over, making sure everything was in working order for the upcoming long commutes. Kurt had tried to corner Finn into talking about his feelings about Rachel and their break up, but had somehow been tricked by the taller boy into discussing _The Notebook_. Looking back on the conversation, he was not sure where he had slipped up, letting Finn have the upper hand.

Pulling into an empty space in the Dalton parking lot, Kurt started unloading his suitcases from his car, grunting.

"Kurt Hummel, you were not made for manual labour," he huffed as he set down his second, and last, suitcase.

"Need a hand?" a voice asked.

Turning, Kurt was face to face with David. He and David had only spoken in the confines of Warbler practice, mostly due to the fact that he was a year older and in none of his classes. They had always been friendly, but he was one of the last people Kurt expected to find wanting to help him out.

"Uh . . . if you don't mind?" Kurt hesitantly replied.

"Of course not, I offered!" David exclaimed and picked up the bigger suitcase, "You are in the same dorm as Blaine, right?"

"Yes, that one," Kurt gestured to the building.

"So how was your Christmas break?" David made small talk as they walked over.

Kurt glanced at the boy as they walked, trying to figured out his game. People could not possibly just be this nice. "It was very pleasant, I loved being back home. I had really missed everyone; I hadn't expected that when I came to Dalton. What about your break?"

David shrugged nonchalantly. "I spent most of it with my girlfriend. I only saw my family a few times, around Christmas. Wes had a great New Years party, you should have come!" he smiled at the other boy.

"I . . . I guess I would have if I would have had the means?" Kurt replied, "Anyways, my friends in Lima had a party and I went there with my brother," the word just rolled naturally off of his tongue, "But I appreciate the invitation."

"Oh, yes! Yours was the party that Blaine ditched Wes' for!" David ribbed Kurt playfully.

Kurt stepped to the side, not expecting the force David had exerted. "I didn't mean for him to miss a party with you guys," Kurt bashfully answered.

"Don't be silly, Kurt. Blaine does what he wants. Do you really believe he would have gone to Lima if he really did not want to be there? Getting down to Florida would have been no problem for him," David was very matter-of-fact in his speech.

Trying to not catch the older boy's eyes so he did not betray any emotions, Kurt looked down, apparently very deeply interested in the cobbled walkway to his dorm. They continued with small talk until they got up to Kurt's room, discussing classes and David bequeathing advice for the upcoming exams. Taking his suitcase from David, Kurt thanked him politely and, saying he would see him at Warbler practice, entered his room, leaving the door slightly ajar in case Blaine happened to walk by and wondered if he was in yet.

David walked down the hall and knocked on a door. It was opened by Wes.

"Is he here yet?" Wes inquired.

David nodded. "Yes, but he avoided asking anything about Blaine - if he was here, if he said anything about the party in Lima, nothing," David frowned.

"They are most frustrating . . ." Wes mused, letting David into his room.

David threw himself onto Wes' bed, sprawling out on it, while Wes leaned on his desk. David started leafing through the open book he found on the bed. Wes stared at him, not really seeing him, thinking.

"It was different with Mike," Wes finally said.

David looked up. "Hmm? Oh, yes. Well . . . Blaine was in a very different position then. I mean, he had just transfered, and there was Mike, this older, cooler guy heading the Warblers. Hell, everyone had a mancrush on him."

"True," Wes nodded, not denying the fact. He played with a pen as he mused. "But Kurt is different. He's not the scrub that Mike ended up being."

"Scrub!" David exclaimed.

"Excuse me? Yes . . . scrub. You know . . . like a deadbeat," Wes explained, confused.

"No, no. I know that. Talking about Mike reminded me of the Warblers, which brought Regionals to mind, and then you said scrub. That brought the nineties to mind, and then I thought of Destiny's Child and Bills, Bills, Bills - which is the song I think we should do for Regionals." David explained patiently.

"Your mind works in the strangest ways.

"But what do you think?"

"I think it's actually a great idea - it's so different from what we normally do. We'll bring it up at our first Warbler meeting tonight."

* * *

Blaine had come to Kurt's room on his way to the Warbler practice room. The door was ajar, so he pushed it open and walked inside.

Kurt was just emptying out his suitcase. Another smaller suitcase as open on the bed. This one seemed filled with creams, lotions, hair products, and the like. Blaine did not understand, first of all, why Kurt had so many clothes. The poor boy never got a chance to wear a quarter of them. Secondly, upon seeing Kurt without any morning facial ritual and minus his hair products, Blaine also knew that he did not need to undergo this self-imposed regiment. He was simply wonderful as he was.

"Hey you!" Blaine said softly.

Kurt turned around, holding onto a large pile of scarves. A smile slid over his face. "Hey yourself! How are you?" he asked.

"Great, just going down to Warbler's practice. What's with all the scarves?" Blaine tried to point to them all individually but lost track.

"I just really like scarves, okay?" Kurt defensively retorted, "And it's the one fashion accessory I can still use while wearing this uniform . . . at least to and from classes." He hugged one particularly large, beige scarf close.

Blaine chuckled. "That one there is really nice. It looks warm," he nodded to a grey scarf with thin red lines that had fallen out of Kurt's pile.

Tossing the scarves onto his bed, Kurt picked up the scarf and handed it to Blaine. "Here, have it," he offered.

"Oh, no, I couldn't! I don't want to strip you of your favourite accessory."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I have enough scarves for everyone in Dalton and then some. Trust me, you can have this one, Blaine. Besides, I think it suits you more!" he smiled as he kept holding it out.

Blaine hesitated then grabbed it, throwing it around his neck. "Thank you."

"It's the least I can do!"

"Okay, now we really do have to get to Warbler practice before Wes totally looses his cool and kills the both of us with just a glare!" Blaine exclaimed and, grabbing Kurt's hand, started pulling the startled boy out of his room. Kurt managed to close his door behind him before Blaine started jogging lightly, hands still held, down the hall.

They arrived in the practice room and sat down on a couch between two other Warblers. Pleasantries were exchanged. Vague questions about the holidays and if the other had had a good time. The two boys who had beat Kurt at the last Solo Competition were sitting across from them, talking in hushed voices and glancing periodically towards Blaine.

"Why do they keep looking at you?" Kurt whispered to Blaine, trying to be discreet, yet irritation creeping into his voice.

Blaine glanced over at the two boys. "I'm not sure . . . probably because I am doing the solo in our new song? I don't know how they heard already though?" he wondered, confused.

Kurt was about to ask what song they were doing when Wes banged his gavel and the room quieted down. David handed out papers to everyone in the room. "Bills Bills Bill" was written at the top, the rest was the sheet music for the song. Kurt looked over to Blaine and frowned. 'Really?' his expression incredulously asked.

"Now, you should all have a copy of the music and lyrics for Destiny's Child 'Bills Bills Bills.' This is currently our preferred song for Regionals. I know that we have some great talent so I am expecting nothing short of phenomenal. Blaine," Wes gestured towards Blaine, in case someone had been living under a rock while part of the club, "Will be doing our lead vocals. After his amazing display at Sectionals, In Blaine We Trust."

Everyone in the room laughed lightly at this. Formations were discussed and ways to break the song down in a cappella harmonies. Kurt could hear people all around him practicing on making the appropriate vocalization. The people Kurt had sat with were practicing the background vocals while Blaine left the room with two other Warblers to practice the song.

The sharp sound of the gavel snapped everyone's attention to the front of the room.

"Okay, we've had some time to practice. Lets just do a run through and see if everything works out well, if we can even pull it off!" Wes announced.

The two boys who had managed the beginning of the song best chimed in. Kurt joined the rest of the Warblers on the vocalization. The two Warblers that had left with Blaine now stood by the closed doors, ready to open them when the group got the appropriate note. As they opened the doors, Blaine pranced into the room, adjusting his tie.

_At first we started out real cool_

_Taking me places i ain't never been_

_But now your getting comfortable_

_Ain't doing those things that you did no more_

_Your slowly makin' me pay for things_

_Your money should be handling_

Blaine was getting very much into the song, doing hand gestures and making expressive faces according to the lyrics of the song. He even jumped up on the couch behind Kurt, scaring him momentarily.

Kurt was surprised by how well the Warblers moved. David pull off some pretty impressive jumps and spins, and he was not alone. He knew that they were nowhere near as limber and able as Mike or Brittany, but they were not the stiff a cappella choir Mr. Shue had initially envisioned.

When they finished the run through, everyone clapped. There was still work they needed to do on perfecting choreography and fine tuning their harmonization, but it had been an intense performance.

"Guys, I would say that we're ready for regionals!" Blaine exclaimed, looking around and smiling broadly at all of his club members.

Clapping each other on the back and muttering words of congratulations for nailing the performance in the first shot, everyone gathered their stuff back, getting ready to go back to their dorms.

"What did you think of the song once we did it? I know it wasn't your first pick when you got the music sheet," Blaine broached the subject as he and Kurt walked back.

"It actually ended up working very well . . . surprisingly. I have been known to be wrong once in a while, but don't tell anyone else that!"

Blaine mimicked shock and gasped. "Kurt Hummel, you have flaws and imperfections? Get out of here! I am afraid we can no longer be friends."

"A sad day at Dalton," grinned Kurt and slightly bumped his shoulder into Blaine's.

* * *

"Hey, Kurt, want to read over my English paper for me?" Blaine asked, looking down at some loose leaf papers as he pushed open the door and stepped into Kurt's room that Saturday morning. He had just had debate team earlier, so he was still dressed in his Dalton uniform.

Kurt, who had accompanied him to the mock-debate that had been held, was also in his uniform. He was wearing his pea coat and was grabbing a scarf off the rack he had fashioned. His car keys were in his left hand, which was also holding his cell phone.

"Oh, not right now, Blaine," Kurt replied, glancing briefly at Blaine as he grabbed a thin red and navy blue scarf that matched the Dalton colours, "I'll do it when I get back."

"Where are you going?" Blained asked, puzzled. Kurt had not mentioned going anywhere this weekend.

Kurt motioned to his phone. "Mercedes and Rachel want to meet up at the Lima Bean - a coffee house in Lima," Kurt explained when he saw the confused expression on Blaine's face, "I think that there is some trouble brewing at McKinley and they just want to talk to a somewhat indifferent third party."

"Oh, okay, I get it. I'll come then," Blaine smiled and, at Kurt's cocked eyebrow, said, "I am obviously the impartial third party needed."

"Oh, very well," Kurt pretended to give in.

The stopped at Blaine's room so he could grab his own coat and scarf, then headed to Kurt's car. The car ride was filled easily with conversations and laughs, especially once Blaine found Kurt's Backstreet Boys Millennium CD.

"Seriously? You still have this?" Blaine asked, eyebrow raised.

"Say what you want, but you know that you know all the words to _Larger Than Life_," Kurt challenged, placing it in the CD slot. Music filled the car as the song started and Kurt began to sing.

_I may run and hide when you're screamin' my name, alright_

_But let me tell you now there are prices to fame, alright_

_All of our time spent in flashes of light_

Blaine joined in at the chorus, not being able to withstand the song's catchy rhythm and all too well known lyrics.

_All you people - can't you see, can't you see?_

_How your love's affecting our reality?_

_Every time we're down , you can make it right_

_And that makes you larger than life_

Kurt stopped singing and allowed Blaine to take the next verse. Blaine tried his hardest to gesticulate and be as emphatic as he could while seated and buckled in, making Kurt giggle foolishly.

_Looking at the crowd and I see your body sway, c'mon_

_Wishin' I could thank you in a different way, c'mon_

_'Cause all of your time spent keeps us alive_

They pulled into the parking lot of Lima Bean and were unable to finish the song. Both entered the coffee shop feeling very giddy and trying hard not to laugh hysterically for fear that the other customers would think them insane.

Mercedes and Rachel were waiting by the door, looking rather serious. They both brightened up upon seeing Kurt and Blaine. Giant hugs were given to both boys by Rachel while Mercedes only hugged her best friend, saluting Blaine warmly.

The four fell into idle chitchat as they waited in line to place their orders, everyone paying for themselves. They crowded around the counter, waiting for their beverages and discussing the development on Grey's Anatomy. Blaine, the only one who did not watch the show, was content to just listen to the three bicker about what it really meant the Callie, whoever that was, was pregnant with Sloan's baby.

The barista placed the drinks on the counter in front of them and Kurt, the closest to it, took it upon himself to distribute them.

"Medium drip," he called out, reading what was written on the cup.

"That's me, thank you very much," Blaine claimed it quickly as Kurt handed the other coffee to Rachel.

Blaine went over to get a stir stick and, to break up the Grey' anatomy talk that was sure to follow him to the table, said, "Now I don't want to sound cocky or anything," Mercedes and Rachel exchanged a look, "but you guys better be pulling out all the stops for Regionals." He smirked at the two girls as he headed to a table to sit.

Kurt gave Mercedes her coffee as she took hers and Rachel's muffins. He then proceeded to grab his own beverage and a plate of biscotti before they too followed Blaine and Rachel to the table.

"Because the number we just rehearsed," continued Blaine, "is so off the hook, it's dangerous."

"Seriously," Kurt chimed in, "People should wear protective head gear when they're watching it."

Rachel and Mercedes did not crack a smile at Kurt's quip, like they normally would. Instead, they shared a dark look. Kurt noticed this and looked back and forth between his two friends.

"Guys, we're kidding," he told them.

"Yeah, well it's just hard to laugh right now with with everything going on at McKinley," Rachel somberly said.

"I mean, look at us. The stars of two rival show choirs, sitting, having coffee," Mercedes spoke up, "Our school is so messed up, we can't even keep our own football team together."

Kurt frowned, not seeing how Mercedes had connected those two ideas. He just looked at her, though, and did not ask questions, not wanting to upset her more.

"It's so sad, you guys. Coach Bieste and Mr. Shue were so close to getting everyone at the school together," Rachel said sadly.

"Why hasn't Finn told me anything about this?" Kurt exclaimed, kind of hurt all of a sudden, "I mean, I talk to him daily. All Christmas break I brought him a glass of warm milk every night just in hopes that we'll have a lady chat."

Blaine put down the biscotti he was dunking in his coffee to turn and face Kurt. "Warm milk?" he asked incredulously, "Really?"

"It's delicious," Kurt defended his beverage choice for Finn.

"Finn's too proud to complain. He feels like he has to be strong for everyone, but I know it's just killing him inside. I hope he realizes that, you know, if he and I were still together I could make him feel a lot better, you know?" Rachel went from comforting Kurt to slightly creeping him out due to the intense expression her face took on.

"Let it go, Rachel," sigh Kurt.

Rachel sighed. "I . . . I just wish that there was a way that we could help, that's all."

"Yeah," agreed Mercedes, "And the worst part is how bummed the guys are. I mean, they already suffer enough abuse just being in glee. I really think winning the game could ease some of the pressure . . . at least for a little while."

Blaine's ears picked up and he asked with his mouth full, "Wait, so the whole team quit?"

"Everybody not in Glee. I mean, you can't play football with five guys. One of them is in a wheelchair." Mercedes confirmed.

"Yeah, Coach Bieste put up a sign up sheet for people to join. I think they'll take anyone at this point," Rachel said, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Well," Blaine spoke after thinking a bit, "the good news is you actually only need four more guys. High school regulations actually let you play a couple of guys short if you want to."

A look came over Rachel's face. Kurt had seen it before - the wheels had started turning, she had an idea, something she wanted to execute. Her and Mercedes exchanged looks and the idea seemed to transfer as the same look went over Mercedes' face.

"But, if they figure out a way to make it work," Blaine continued, oblivious to whatever effect his speech may have had and to the look Kurt was giving him, "you can bet that we will definitely be there to cheer them on."

"Oh, totally," Kurt turned to the girls, "Blaine and I love football." At Mercedes' 'oh really' expression, Kurt quickly back peddled and said, "Well, Blaine loves football. I love scarves."

Everyone giggled at that statement and it helped get them off of the topic of McKinley's upcoming football game. Kurt was still uneasy about what Rachel was going to do in order to ensure that there would be a football team. She did not think in half measures, it was all or nothing with her, much like with him. Even more, he was uneasy about going back to McKinley, even being there with Blaine and his parents, when Karofsky might be there. He pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind and tried to enjoy the rest of the afternoon with his closest friends.

* * *

Blaine had decided to be the one to drive down to Lima for the football game. Both he and Kurt were coming from class, so they had not had time to change. They stopped at Kurt's house for a quick dinner with his parents before the four of them all headed to Kurt's old high school to watch the game.

"Where is Finn?" Kurt asked, still touchy about the fact that Finn had not confided in him about the problems that were happening with the glee club and football team.

"He's already at the school. They have to warm up and he said that he had to get his makeup ready?" Carol replied, slightly perplexed.

"Makeup?" Kurt echoed, "He never mentioned anything about that either." He pouted.

"Don't worry," Blaine kicked him under the table, "I am sure that if he told you what it was for, it would ruin whatever surprise he is preparing all of us for! Great pasta, by the way, Mrs. Hummel," Blaine addressed Carol and she beamed at him.

They got to the school later than Burt wold have preferred and were forced, therefore, to sit higher up than would have been ideal for him. The stadium lights turned on and Burt forgot to keep scowling, instead cheering wildly. His enthusiasm was contagious. Kurt, who knew nothing about the sport, found himself cheering just as hard as his three equally excited companions.

Kurt saw Dave enter the field, surrounded by his drones, and go up to talk to Finn as he stretched in the middle of the field. A ball of ice formed in his stomach and crept throughout his entire body. He was shaking and it had nothing to do with the cold air. Blaine took his hand and squeezed it, smiling comfortingly at him. He too had noticed Karofsky on the field.

"Courage," Blaine mouthed.

Just then, Rachel, smiling like an idiot, Lauren, Tina, and Mercedes all walked onto the field dressed in the McKinley football uniform. Kurt forgot all about Karofsky and stared at them in shock. Were they really doing this? Was he dreaming? He was petrified they would get killed, but, at the same time, an immense wave of pride for his friends washed over him.

When the game started, Kurt was confused.

"Are they supposed to just . . . drop right there?" he asked Blaine, motioning to the girls that just fell flat on their stomachs as soon as a play started.

Blaine shook his head. "I think they're just trying to stay alive," he yelled over the crowd.

Kurt felt the disappointment every time the other team scored a goal. Why was everything so much harder for his friends than for other people? Speaking of friends . . . his eyes roamed the field. Where were Brittany, Santana, and Quinn? He could not spot them anywhere. Maybe they had become comatose due to lack of anything to cheer for in this game.

Suddenly . . . was that Tina? Did she have the ball? Was she really running and ducking fast all those hulking football players?

Kurt could not control himself. He was bouncing around, yelling at the top of his lungs, clapping and cheering her on. Tina! He could not believe it. To the left of him, he could hear his father urging her on.

"Run! Run girl!"

Then, just as suddenly, she was down, tackled. An eery silence fell over the pitch as the first aid responders entered the field. Kurt's heart broke as he saw that Mike as the first one to reach her. His heart in his mouth, he stared at the scene unfolding before him, waiting to see if his friend was alright. As she stood up, Kurt let out the breathe he did not even realize he had been holding in.

The lights dimmed for the half time show and Kurt excitedly tapped Blaine on the knee.

"I wonder what glee club is going to do!" he squealed.

"What makes you think it will be the glee club performing?" asked Blaine.

"What else would Finn be doing with makeup? Trust me, the guy is not cut out for cross-dressing," Kurt laughed then stared in awe at the field as smoke started to pour onto it. He could not tell who the people on the field were or if they were wearing costumes.

The lights came on and he saw them.

Zombies.

Santana's strong voice was heard as she began the song.

_Off with your head_

_I guess they found something to cheer for, _Kurt thought.

What followed made Kurt miss New Directions more than anything. A great mash-up between 'Thriller' and 'Heads Will Roll' set the stage for a zombie-clad dance of epic proportions. The school band was on the field, playing with them. And . . . were those the rest of the football players, dancing and singing?

The crowd, including all the McKinley students, parents, and staff, were actually swaying with the music. Dancing along. Singing along. Cheering. Kurt felt like he had fallen through the rabbit hole, into an alternate universe where the glee club was not viciously ostracized at McKinley.

Somebody joined the field in the middle of the dance. Kurt could not be sure . . . and he did not want to seem paranoid . . . but was that Karofsky? A tingle went up his spine, but he chose to ignore it and focus on his friends who had worked so hard and deserved this great reception they were receiving.

The applause when the number finished was almost deafening. Kurt jumped up and down, clapping as hard as he could. He had never been more happy for his friends and never missed New Directions more. The rest of the game did not really matter to him.

He was happy for Finn and his teammates that they had won. He cheered alongside Blaine and his parents when that touchdown was placed, but, to him, the triumph had been the musical number.

The four of them waited in the hallway of the school after the game. The hallway was pretty busy with other families and friends waiting around for someone on the football team. Blaine and Kurt were going to leave straight after, but Kurt wanted to see Finn before heading out. He did not want to say congratulations and show him his pride though a text message or phone call.

"So, Blaine," Burt started, chest puffed with local pride, "What did you think of our little football team?"

"They played well, sir. I am still . . . in awe of what the girls did in the first half. That must have taken a lot of guts," Blaine replied.

"Yes, it was a well-earned win," Burt hugged Carol with one hand, "We're very proud."

Voices were heard. People started leaving the change rooms. Lauren Zizes was the first to walk by them. She waved at Kurt as he congratulated her on her participation in the first half as well as her work in the half-time show.

"I only wish I had hurt someone," she muttered as she walked away.

Blaine looked over to Kurt. "If she serious?"

"Sadly."

Finn ran up to them, yelling down the hall as he did so, and hugged his mom tightly, spinning her around. Burt clapped loudly and was soon smothered in a hug from Finn as well, bringing a swift end to his claps.

"Finn, honey, congratulations!" Carol said, cupping her son's face in her hands and staring tearily at him.

"Aw, Mom, don't cry," Finn hugged her again quickly, "Besides, it wasn't just me. The whole team came together . . . in a way I didn't think possible. Everything is going to be great!" Finn beamed.

Blaine clapped Finn on the back and shook his hand, congratulating him on the win and inquiring about a few plays he had seen the team do in the second half. Finally, Kurt hugged his brother, any anger or irritation he might have had vanishing at the sight of Finn and his goofy, warm smile.

"I'm so happy for you, Finn! I hope that this can be the beginning of a sort of alliance between the football team and the glee club?" he said hopefully.

"Coach Bieste and Mr. Shue seem to think that it will help," Finn shrugged, "I dunno . . . right now we all love each other. I hope that it will last tomorrow when we are back at school. I'm going to try to make it happen," Finn replied, causing Carol and Burt to exchange prideful looks.

From the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Karofsky walking down the hall with another one of his buddies. Both were walking slowly and neither seemed to have noticed him yet. His heart sped up as his hand searched for Blaine's. Find it, he squeezed it urgently. Blaine looked at him oddly then, looking over his shoulder, saw the two boys, who had currently stopped to shove dirty clothes in a bag.

Blaine immediately recognized Karofsky from their prior encounter and immediately knew why Kurt had gone pale and was holding his hand so tightly.

"Anyways, Mr. and Mrs Hummel, I am afraid that I am going to have to drag Kurt away now. I have a test I need to revise for and we do have a bit of a drive ahead of us," Blaine spoke up, creating a gateway for himself and Kurt.

"Of course! We understand. Your studies are the most important thing," Burt said, "Thanks for coming out, Blaine. It says a lot about you to be able to come and not only watch a rival's game, but cheer for them too."

Blaine nodded politely, smiling, and accepted the compliment.

Kurt smiled weakly at his family. "Bye, guys. I'll miss you," he managed to choke out. His throat had dried up and swallowing was painful. He just needed to get out.

Burt pish-poshed. "Kurt, we're right here. You talk to us daily. Now, come on, scoot! Stop trying to find reasons to not head back and do your work!"

"Right," Kurt whispered and, with quickly pecking his father on the cheek, started to all but run out of the school, Blaine following him quickly.

Kurt thought he had be done with running.

He thought he had found his courage.

His clammy hands and pounding heart told him a different story.


End file.
